APH - Den/Hun - Unexpected Invitation - Chapter 3

Mathias sighed in relief. "Thanks. Sorry to put you through the trouble!" Should I help?
He wandered towards the kitchen, noticing few differences between the Hun's and his own. He wasn't sure if he should continue to be formal or just slip into casual conversation and language.

He glanced at Elizaveta, and could feel some distress emitting from her. His thoughts went back to what she had said earlier about Roderich, and then there was that letter. Something must be up...

"Do you need any help?" He decided to ask. He wasn't the world's greatest chef, but he wasn't bad, either. Plus, if it meant making more conversation, it would be good for both of them.

Elizaveta wondered what sorts of food the Danish ate, hoping that she could cook something familiar to his country rather than her own. Quickly, she changed her mind; she thought it would be better for her to cook something from her own country, rather than have him eat something familiar but tasted disgusting to him. Ah, maybe he should try some pörkölt-

Her train of thoughts snapped when Mathias had offered himself to help her. She looked at him and insisted, "No, no! I'll be fine. Just enjoy yourself here." While you still can, her thoughts continued, feeling incredibly bad and debating about what she should do. Her hands instinctively dug through her refrigerator, as if they knew the ingredients to prklt, and set the various foods on the counter - all while Elizaveta was forming a headache from worrying too much about Roderich.

Mathias was surprised by the speed and swiftness of the Hun as she moved around the kitchen. She seemed to be cooking a Hungarian dish, which was a relief as he was tired of Nordic food. He couldn't help but laugh.
"In all honesty, I'll feel awkward just standing here." He rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows as he continued, "Besides, I hate to be a burden." Especially since you seemed stressed out.

The Viking couldn't help but notice Elizaveta's slightly distracted state. To signify his stubornnness, he washed his hands and turned to her. "So, what can I do?"

Elizaveta, too, was surprised that he was rolling up his sleeves, suggesting that he was going to help out anyways. I guess that his Viking side is getting to him, just as my Hun side wants to work independently to show off... She smiled half-heartedly, murmuring a "thank you", and reached for the bag of meat in the hodgepodge of ingredients. Elizaveta handed it to him and said as she stealthily and quietly opened a cabinet next to her legs with her foot , "Here, you can cook this to your liking. There should be a pan in this cabinet down here."

On the meanwhile, Elizaveta prepared the broth, cutting up onions, capsicum, and tomatoes. "I hope you don't mind spicy food," she warned him. He should be fine with the spice. He is a Viking, she attempted to amused herself.

Mathias was amused with the Hun's flexibility around the kitchen. He took the bag of meat and nodded, having to bend over to look into the cabinet. She probably made me get it myself on purpose, he mused, remembering how she found him and his height problems so hilarious from before. Sure enough, there was a pan that seemed of good size to cook the meat in. He took it out and settled it on the stove, twisting and turning knobs to get it to the desired settings. He was used to cooking for himself, especially after Berwald and Tino had moved out of his house.

As the onions that Elizaveta was using got to him, he rubbed his eyes with his forearm. He then turned to the Hun with a grin. "Mind spicy food? I love it. What do you take me for, a pansy?"

Elizaveta naturally and audibly scowled upon hearing Mathias' last word. A second later, she realized that it was terribly unwomanly to have done such a thing and whispered a guilty "sorry". But she couldn't help it; Gilbert (and probably many other nations) loved teasing Roderich by calling him a pansy, but Elizaveta knew (rather, hoped) that Mathias wasn't trying to mention her ex-husband, so she tried to set it aside.

Elizaveta got out another pan for herself and walked over to the stove to stand beside Mathias, sauting the chopped foods and adding water to Mathias' frying pan. Once the ingredients to the broth were fried, she strode across the kitchen to add in the final broth ingredients (including - oh, say, twice to three times the amount of paprika necessary just to test Mathias' spicy range) and came back to Mathias to dump the completed broth into Mathias' pan as well. She deemed it too awkward to ask Mathias to do such a simple thing like that when she was already standing right there.

"Once the meat is cooked, it's ready to eat," Elizaveta told him, crossing the kitchen floor once more to retrieve a proper plate and utensils for him.

Mathias raised an eyebrow at the Hungarian after she muttered her "sorry", not seeing why she really needed to apologize. Still, her behavior sparked his curiosity. It was then that he remembered that Elizaveta had often associated the word "pansy" with Roderich, as many nations teased the Austrian relentlessly due to his living style and weakness in battles. He mentally kicked himself once again. I wouldn't really have cared but...she already seems to be in a tough spot with that wimp.

The Viking watched Elizaveta pour the rest of the ingredients into the pan, taking a little step to the side to offer her more space to maneuver. Due to his lack of knowledge of Hungarian dishes, he didn't even notice the additions the Hun was making to the meal. "How long does it take to cook?" Heslightly leaned over to watch the pan, the smell of the cooking prklt filling his nostrils.

Elizaveta set down the bowl next on the counter beside the stove. "Usually, it takes an hour or two," she told him, feeling a little bad for cooking something improperly, "but I manipulated it a bit, so it should take about ten minutes." Her nose could smell the pan absolutely reeking of paprika; she was glad that Mathias didn't realize that. However, if Mathias had got some kind of stomach ache from too much of the spice, then Elizaveta would definitely feel bad. That would set off a bad first impression...or he could take it as an ingredient of typical Hungarian cuisine, she thought carefully.

The Hun reached for more of the same ingredients to make herself prklt, but her stomach didn't seem to be in the greatest mood to eat. She sighed - Roderich really was getting to her too much. If she had to consult Mathias about that problem, now would be the time, but somehow couldn't summon up the courage to ask him. Reluctantly, Elizaveta grabbed the leftover ingredients and put them back into the refrigerator. She ended up lost in her thoughts and had her elbows on the counter and head in her hands, staring at the covered, long unused piano that sat in the living room.

"Ten minutes, huh?" He leaned against the counter lightly as the smell of the dish spread throughout the kitchen and slowly seeped into the rest of the house. Mathias watched the Hungarian's moves, noticing her still distracted look and that she hadn't prepared enough of the dish for the both of them. Following her gaze, he saw the piano and understood. Well, it's not like we're doing anything else...

"Elizaveta?" He gently pushed himself away from the counter, still keeping his distance from where the Hun was standing. "Are you alright?"

Elizaveta, snapping out of her dazed look, immediately slid her elbows off of the table and turned around. The way he called her name pricked her - there was a feeling behind it, a feeling she hasn't sensed even in Roderich for so long that she couldn't ignore or deny it. Her heart sank and her eyes dulled into worry; she didn't care anymore about what she wanted to keep away from Mathias and let herself spill out.

"Roderich..." She paused. "Well, Roderich has been having a rough time lately. I get so worried about him that I get involved in his conflicts as well, only so that I could help him, but now he's concerned about my welfare because I've been...stressed and out there." Her eyes gazed through the window in the kitchen, facing the direction where the grassy field was.

"He's coming over this evening to talk to me. I don't think I can stop him." Elizaveta realized how much the sentence she just uttered revealed her weakness and was detrimental to her status as a Hun. She was seriously going to regret that later. "I'm certain that he wants us to talk privately, but that means you have to leave. I even invited you over, so I would feel terrible to have to ask you to leave. I don't know..." Her voice began to crack. "I'm not sure what I should do."

Mathias instantly noticed the change in the Hungarian's eyes, the warmth and spunk gone. He stood quietly, letting her spill out her worries, trying his best to not let her suddenly weakened and vulnerable voice get to him. The Viking followed Elizaveta's gaze to the window, then rested back on her. Now that he really looked at her, she did seem a bit disheveled-she had slight bags under her eyes, her hair was just a tad unkempt, and her dress didn't seem to be completely ironed.

So that's what's been bothering her, he thought. Looks like I'm not the only one having issues.

Mathias smiled sympathetically at the Hun, trying to hide the stubborn, Viking side of him and appear diplomatic. "Elizaveta, don't worry about it. I can go-Roderich is obviously concerned, and if you haven't seen him in a while, it may be best to meet with him. I don't want to be an extra burden when it looks like you have enough going on." Deciding that right now she needed comfort more than anything, he quickly grabbed a mug and heated up some water, mixing in a generous amount of honey and cinnamon. He handed the mug to her, placing one hand on her right shoulder, and gave it a little squeeze.
"Here, drink this. It should soothe you."

Elizaveta stared at the mug in surprise, not because he just grabbed one out of nowhere, but because of his character and sympathy. A Viking, out of all people, wouldn't do this. Perhaps Mathias was an exception - yet with this sort of personality, how was he so renowned as a Viking? How did he live as one? She was definitely curious to see what he was like then.

Elizaveta glanced at the shoulder the man had gripped. A melancholy smile then swept across her face as she accepted the beverage Mathias made, drinking a moderate amount from it. The sweet, sugary taste flooded her mouth and pleasingly overwhelmed her taste buds, already getting rid of the headache that clung to her. After lowering the cup, she looked at Mathias and murmured, "Thank you."

While viewing his eyes, it hit her that he seemed to be bothered by something as well. She squinted slightly into the deep blue irises to confirm her thoughts, then thought over what she was to do. "Mathias, I'll ask Roderich if you can stay." She highly doubted that Roderich would approve of that, but knew that it wouldn't hurt to try.

Mathias could almost literally feel the Hun analyzing him and his actions. He was showing too much of his soft side, but damn it, he couldn't help it. As renowned as he was for being a jerk at times, he could relate to the Hun's problems. Besides, he had tried his best suppress his Viking side, though if he ever got angry . . .

"No problem." He nodded, removing his hand from her shoulder, putting it in one pocket instead. His eyes had fixated on the Hungarian's green ones, who he noticed was looking into his own. He blinked after he suggestion, surprised that she would actually be okay with someone else in the house when her ex-husband-though they still seem to have feelings for each other-was over.

He shifted his weight to his heels, letting out a sigh. "Really, Elizaveta, I don't want to make things awkward for you." Or me.

Elizaveta frowned, even almost pouting. "I don't want you travelling all the way down here for such a short time and then returning to your country. Doesn't it take some many hours to get down here, too? That would definitely be a waste of time." Remembering that the prklt was still cooking, she walked over to it and poked at the meat sitting in the broth. Elizaveta picked up the pan and carefully poured it into the bowl that had been sitting idly on the counter. As the broth was transferred over, the smell of paprika was so strong that her nose started to sting. Oh, no, please don't die from the paprika, she thought exaggeratedly. At this rate, she was definitely going to set off a bad first impression on Mathias - first, she has to ask him to leave (or perhaps not), then she adds excess spice into his food.

Elizaveta turned around as she snatched utensils from the drawer and continued, "Mathias, I insist. I'll figure something out." Her arms levered forward to hand him the bowl of prklt, also adding a determined expression onto her face.

Mathias raised an eyebrow at Elizaveta. Damn, she's stubborn. But he couldn't help but grin knowing that he was too. He took the bowl carefully from her hands, without looking away from her face. So, he mused, she's starting to show her Hun side, it seems. He took a whiff of the dish the Hungarian had presented him with, and his nose tingled with the smell of spice. Oh joy.

"Elizaveta, please. As a Viking I've traveled much, much further than this with barely any food and carrying a giant axe. You've already been quite hospitable. I really don't want to be a reason to cause any more trouble, really." He let out a little laugh. He was known for being a troublemaker, so hearing himself speak those very words seemed, well, hypocritical. He shook his head and carefully poked at the prklt, waiting for it to cool a bit before taking a taste.

Elizaveta thought that it was a coincidence that, right when she was wondering about Mathias' Viking side, he began to show it. The rumors about him being incredibly bossy and stubborn didn't seem as bad as they were to her - it was pretty tolerable, actually. Either that, or he was just being too much of a gentleman at this very moment.

"I understand that very well, Mathias - you know that I traveled as much as you did and with as much trouble, or even more, in my younger days." Elizaveta felt that she was nearly challenging him when it came to talking about their barbaric lives, though it was unintentional. Her hand reached over to the stove to turn it off, then wandered to another part of the kitchen to grab the mug. She took another few gulps. "Still, you shouldn't strain yourself and relax for a while. You're of no trouble at all and I enjoy your company. Please, take a seat."

"Even more?" A smirk played on the Viking's lips. "You may have traveled far, but by horse, right? I've had to face raging days at the sea." He laughed warmly to emphasis his jesting tone, hoping the Hun wouldn't take it as a serious challenge, as lovely as it would be to see her angry. Not now...maybe when things get better for her.

He let out another sigh. "Really, I feel like I am. But if you insist, Frken Elizaveta." He performed an exaggerated bow and went to take a seat, poking a bit more at the Hungarian dish before deciding to take a bite. At first, it wasn't too bad, but after a few seconds his whole mouth felt the heat from the spice of the broth. He gulped it down, the fire now spreading down his throat. He coughed a bit, and was met by the spicy aftertaste.

By reflex, he went to loosen his tie and unbutton the first one or two buttons of his shirt. He looked at the Hungarian, tears nearly at his eyes but with an ever-wide grin on his face.
"Could I have some water, please? This is delicious, by the way. Never thought Hungarians ate this much spice-or has your cuisine been influence by the Thai and Indians?" She totally put more spice on purpose, he thought, and nearly laughed at the subtle challenge the Hun had placed on him. I'm a Viking, I don't back down that quickly.

Elizaveta grinned, though not as widely as she would, before taking one final swallow of Mathias' drink. She set down the mug next to the sink. "Yes, that's correct. But I warn you - you shouldn't underestimate me." Elizaveta heard her own voice changing a bit while telling him that and spoke to herself once again, No, Elizaveta, not here.

She released a laugh as Mathias bowed - A gentleman he is. Her eyes followed his move to the table, waiting to be both amused and scared about the Danish's reaction to her cooking. Elizaveta skipped a heartbeat when a bit of her food disappeared into his mouth, and probably even two more beats were missing as she watched him partially unclothe himself. It took her a few seconds longer than usual to answer his request.

"Oh, yes-" - those two words came out a little strangely - "-and thank you! We can handle pretty much anything." She winked with an accompanying smile, suggesting a bit of exaggeration (or boasting), then got a glass cup and filled it with water. To see him enjoy her food and not dying from it relieved her greatly, but she was aware that she should wait until the food digested in his body before being completely relieved. When the Hungarian returned to Mathias to hand him his desired water, she sat down in the chair across from him, watching Mathias...enjoy...his spicy food, and hoped to talk with him a little while longer.

Mathias watched Elizaveta with amusement after her delayed reply. "Oh, of course. Nothing big and bad enough ever for a Hun!" He jested. He took the glass from her, saying a quick "thank you" before taking a gulp. The cold liquid chilled the fire that had started in his throat. He sighed with satisfaction and continued eating the dish, taking an occasional gulp of water every now and then. His eyes were watering, but he ignored it, with a grin on his face every time he looked up at the Hungarian girl. Damn, how much spice did she put in this? It didn't matter-he was going to down it all, even though he knew the consequences that would follow later on in the day. But he had been through worse. A Viking never backs down from a challenge.

He finished off the last morsel and finished off the water. He let out a loud sigh and quickly placed a gloved hand over his mouth as a small belch escaped. "Sorry." Again, a grin on his face and laughter in his voice, "That was quite good," and hurt like hell, "Thank you for that wonderful meal. Next time I'm in the mood for something to liven up my taste buds in the area I'll be sure to come by." He licked his lips, even though it stung, and then quickly dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

Elizaveta lightly shook her head at Mathias' teasing. She reciprocated a smile every time he glanced up at her. Sure, she was very amused to see water building up in his eyes - sometimes she thought that Mathias would eventually start crying from so much tears, but he proved himself to be a real man for being able to put up with the spice. (Elizaveta wasn't sure if she could handle that much paprika either.) She even watched and calculated to see if he ran out of water before finishing her cooking; he had passed that test too, and that impressed her. But every now and then, she started fidgeting or rattled slightly in fear that something dramatic would happen. Now she had to wait for the climax - the food digestion - to pass, and if all's well, it ends well.

Elizaveta was startled by his burp, but then chuckled happily. "I'm glad to hear that. Perhaps you can eat it again the next time you come," she replied, highly suggesting that he should take up another spicy food challenge for her own amusement. As she took his plate and washed it up, Elizaveta peered up at a clock hanging above her. He should be here anytime soon, she thought with concern.

Of course, so you can put double the spice in it. But Mathias wasn't one to deny a challenge in any form, and responded with his usual grin. "Perhaps I will." He amused himself with the thought of how they could be talking so nicely to each other yet underneath it all mocking the other. Another trait Vikings and Huns share, I suppose.

He liked her laugh. Maybe it was just because she was a girl and he didn't get to hang around the female nations all too often. Because I'm stuck with those bastards. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he thought about the other Nordics, specifically Berwald. But he shook his head. No, not now.

When the Dane looked up at the Hungarian again, he saw her looking at the clock. "So-shall I depart?"

While drying the plate, Elizaveta lowered her head to send Mathias a look of surprise with her wide eyes and stopped rubbing the plate with a towel. She felt terrible that he was already suggesting to leave so soon, since he had stayed for such a short amount of time. Who knows, he may have other things to do...maybe he doesn't even want to be here. Finally, she said, "Well...if you say so, then. I'm sorry about this, Mathias - if only Roderich had told me in advance that he was coming..." Her lips were then at a loss for words.

She turned back to the plate she was holding and her voice added with a hint of guilt, "Please take care. I really enjoyed your company." The parting words she had just said were the words that she didn't want to say. But she had to act like an adult, not a child, and just let him go.

And please don't get an upset stomach by the time your food digests.

Mathias flinched at the tone of her voice. She actually sounded...sad? No, she's just trying to be nice, I'm sure. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little bad...wait, why am I feeling bad? I haven't done anything wrong.

He got up from the table and got his coat and hat off of the hanger, again draping the coat over his shoulder with one hand as it was still too warm for it. He walked up to the Hungarian, smiling. "It's okay-really, stop feeling bad about it." He didn't like that look in her eyes. Maybe...no, I should leave. "Thank you once again for inviting me over and for the food. I'll be sure to visit again soon, and of course if you ever come up north feel free to contact me." He walked to the door and put on his boots, which was always a struggle due to their length. Once he finally had both boots properly on, he got back up, turning to the Hungarian one last time before they departed.

"It was a pleasure to spend time with you today, Frøken Elizaveta." He tipped his hat to her as he said it.

Elizaveta smiled again, nodded, and watched him leave her home. I should visit him sometime, maybe to get a look at his place. He's not too bad of a guy at all...why would the other nations look at him so differently? She sat down at the table that Mathias dined on, waiting for Roderich's arrival and thinking about what would happen when he came.

Which was also when Roderich slammed open Elizaveta's door before Mathias could walk out.

He had heard Mathias' deep voice while standing on Elizaveta's porch and reaching out to press her doorbell; his face displayed an expression of a deadly, serious one, perhaps even on the verge of committing murder. His arm pointed straight at Mathias' broad body, his hand wielding a gun not set to safe mode. Roderich's dark purple eyes narrowed sharply upon seeing this man in his ex-wife's home and quickly scanned what he could see from where he was standing. No Elizaveta in his sight.

"Mathias Køhler," Roderich uttered menacingly, still somehow able to sound proper and elite. "A Nordic should not have any relations or issues regarding Elizaveta. Out of all places, what are you doing in her very household?"

A/N:
Haha, this chapter is much longer than the other two. _ But there's a wonderful cliffhanger here, ehe~

From xNeyu: Again, you can probably tell that I researched a bit. xD I hope that I was right with the directions for making pörkölt. ;u;

Now that we reread this, we realized how different the two become in later chapters. We know that characterization gets to many people, but wehope that you guys approve of it because...well, it seems to make the pairing better that way. xD;