Revised Version: hardly touched it, minor corrections.
Sorry this is so long, but: There are a lot of words and phrases from other languages in this chapter. If it isn't obvious as to what the characters are saying, then it isn't completely necessary that you know it. However, translations for everything are at the very end. If going all the way to the bottom is going to be a pain, then go to google translate, it will work well enough.
Disclaimer: Hidekaz Himaruya (日丸屋秀和) Is not me and I am not 日丸屋秀和 (a load of gibberish and fancy lines). Well, I suppose I could be a load of gibberish and fancy lines, but Hetalia and all the characters wouldn't belong to me, even if I was ='(
Pairings! (Okay, I swear the characters take on a life of their own as I write them! If they want to be together, then they somehow end up together, even if I don't want them to! )
FrancexCanada (Sorry, it just kinda happened... It's still only implied though!)
AmericaxEngland (Still implied -_- But getting there slowly!)
GermanyxItaly! (Finally, one that isn't implied!)
Happy reading my luvs.
Arm's Length
Time, is going by, so much faster than I,
And I'm starting to regret not spending all of it with you.
Now I'm, wondering why, I've kept this bottled inside,
So I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you.
So if I haven't yet, I've gotta let you know...
~Never Gonna Be Alone: Nickelback
Francis sat in his lavishly decorated house. He had a glass of wine in one hand, a romance novel in the other, and he was seated in an overstuffed chair. The room he was sitting in was full of paintings and small colorful sculptures. The décor was reminiscent of an old-fashioned mansion, complete with a massive wine cellar. Sunlight streamed in through the surrounding windows, glinting off of all of the decorations, and bathing the room in a golden glow.
Francis had just gotten off the phone with Feliciano. It seemed that he and Ludwig were about to take a big step in their relationship. Feliciano had, of course, chosen none other than the nation of love to guide him. He was grateful that he himself did not have these issues with the object of his affections.
There was a quiet knock at the door. Francis looked up and checked over his shoulder at the large grandfather clock in the corner.
"Parle du loup," he muttered to himself, then he smiled softly. "He is never on time."
Francis stood up and walked over to the door, tossing his book onto a table rimmed with lace on the way, but keeping his wine in hand.
"Canada, mon cheri!" Francis greeted warmly as he threw the door open and hugged the larger nation.
"Hello," Matthew replied quietly, as he hugged him back.
Francis had a tendency to overwhelm people, especially quiet nations such as his ex-colony.
"Come, come. Assis-toi."
Matthew was wheeled around to a table surrounded by ornate chairs, and a large vase in the center. Matthew sat, as requested, and Francis pulled a bottle of wine and a second glass from nowhere. He offered a glass to his guest.
"I know you prefer cider or maple coffee, but would you care for some honeyed wine? It is one of my best years."
"Oh, sure. Thank you," Canada said, accepting the glass gratefully.
Francis sat down in a chair beside him and asked, "How are things at your house going?"
The other nation sipped the wine before he replied, "Everything has been okay, thank you. But I'm worried that when the economy gets better, Quebec will want freedom. He has mentioned it before, but he owes too much money to break off right now."
"Mmm. That would be very sad," Francis replied with sympathy. He moved his chair so he could face Matthew directly.
"Yes... Everything is okay besides that though."
Francis nodded. "Good, good. And what of notre ami, Amérique?"
Matthew sipped the wine and shifted self-consciously. "He doesn't want much to do with anybody. I know that his boss is going to leave Iraq alone, but that is about it."
"Vraiment? I guess the rumor is true then," Francis leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, his wine swirling around the bottom of his glass. "I thought that Angleterre would have talked with him by now."
Matthew shifted uncomfortably. He felt as if he was about to get pulled into a situation that he may not want to be a part of. "Maybe he has... I don't know if America would listen though."
Francis continued swirling his wine, thinking about what could be done. "What do you think we should do? You are the closest one to him."
"I... I really don't know. I think America is too involved in all the wrong ways, but he wouldn't listen to anyone who tried to tell him that." The familiar sense of 'don't get involved' was sneaking up on him.
"Normally, I would just let Amérique fight his own battles and find out the hard way what it means to fall... But, I think, we are all too involved." Francis sighed, "We are all much too integrated to pretend there are any differences in any of our situations. We are all economically screwed." He chuckled to himself as he said the word 'screwed'.
"Have you tried talking to him, France?" Matthew questioned, ignoring the thought that had obviously been on the other nation's mind.
"Ahh, non. I was hoping that Angleterre would."
There was a pause in which Francis sat up and Matthew placed his half-empty wine glass on the table.
"Should we call him?" Matthew suggested.
"Qui? Amérique?"
"No, England."
"Hmm..."
Francis thought about it while he drained his glass.
"Oui, perhaps it would be a good idea."
The smaller nation reached into his pocket to find his cellphone. When he dialed the number, Arthur's national anthem played instead of the traditional ringing. Francis rested his elbow on the table, then put a chin on his hand as he waited for the other nation to pick up.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Arthur was taking forever to answer just to make Francis endure his anthem. But there was no answer.
He tried again, only to have the call end after a few seconds.
Francis gasped, "He rejected my call!"
Matthew fought to keep his smile under control.
"Let me try England on mine," he offered.
Matthew dialed the number. Francis could hear the faint tune of the anthem in the silence.
"Hello?"
"Hi England, it's Canada and I-"
The phone was snatched by Francis.
...oOo...
"Why would you reject my call?"
Arthur could hear the fake tears in Francis' voice.
"Because you are a dramatic, over-zealous, conceited, narcissistic, arrogant creep," Arthur stated as he ran a hand over his face in annoyance.
"Oh don't flatter me so, mon petit chou!"
...oOo...
"... Did you just call him what I think you did?" Matthew asked, trying not to laugh.
Francis covered the receiver as the nation on the other end babbled on.
"Ce dépend," Francis began, "On what you think I just said."
Matthew covered his mouth with both hands as he broke down into giggles.
But, the other nation raised an eyebrow. "Tu parles encore le francais?"
Matthew stopped giggling and a slight blush crept across his cheeks. "En peu..." He felt Francis' gaze on him and his blush deepened.
...oOo...
"Are you even listening to me, France?!" Arthur shouted into the receiver.
No answer.
"Hey! You bloody well better have a reason for calling me. And why do you have Canada's cellphone?!"
"Relax, relax. Calmes-toi." He suddenly sounded positively gleeful. "I have Canada's cellphone because you wouldn't accept my call. And I have a perfectly sound reason for calling the likes of you."
Francis paused, waiting to be asked what he called for.
Arthur sighed, kneading his forehead with his hand. "What did you call for?"
"Have you spoken with Amérique yet?"
"Umm... No."
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Arthur was growing steadily more irritated. "He- He doesn't want to talk..."
"Of course he doesn't. Why would he want to talk to you?"
"Get to the point, France." Francis' comment hit too close to home.
Arthur heart the other nation sigh loudly. "Just because he doesn't want it, doesn't mean he doesn't need to hear it, oui? Just call him."
Then the line went dead.
The island nation started at the phone for a minute, then he rubbed his eyes angrily with the heels of his hands.
Alfred did not want to talk to him. He tried, really, he did. But whenever he would so much as approach Alfred, the other nation would make some excuse up to leave. Then he would walk out the door with that stupid fake smile on his face. If Arthur tried to call, he would not pick up and then he acted as if nothing was wrong. If Arthur did not know any better, he would say that his friend was better than ever. However, Arthur knew Alfred was just over-compensating for his sadness, so no one else would notice.
It made Arthur angry. All of it. The avoidance, the fake smiles, and now Francis was on his case. As if he had not been trying!
Arthur sighed out of exasperation. Then he glanced at the phone. Should I try calling him again?
He reached for the phone shakily, then withdrew his hand, sighing again. Then he leaned back in his swivel chair, draped his arm across his eyes, and wheeled around to face the wall behind his desk.
What am I so afraid of? He probably won't even answer, the little bugger.
Just then, the words that Francis said to him a few days ago came back:
'And the bigger they are, the harder they fall. So try to stop Amérique from getting too much bigger, He won't listen to anyone else.'
Arthur took his arm off his face and stared up at the ceiling. If Alfred would listen to him, then he would just have to find someone that he would listen to. He wracked his brains for someone that Alfred would listen to. It would have to be someone whose opinion he respected and valued a lot. That automatically left out Francis, Antonio, Feliciano, and Romano. Maybe Kiku or Wang. But Arthur did not want to get Wang involved in this, and Kiku was too close to Wang to be trusted... Maybe someone Alfred feared would be better. Ivan? No. No no no! Arthur shuddered at the very thought. He might listen to Basch, considering how great his economy always is. But he had always wanted to remain neutral in all affairs. Matthew? No, he was too soft-spoken.
Arthur sighed heavily. Then, he remembered what he had explained to Francis about watching Ludwig fall.
Would it work? He debated with himself for a minute. Worst case scenario, Ludwig refuses to help or Alfred does not listen. Best case scenario, Ludwig talks some sense into him.
It's worth a shot.
He twirled around to face the desk again and reached for the phone with a little more determination. Arthur dialed Ludwig's number and heard the German national anthem playing on the line. He drummed his fingers against the desk, nervously waiting, when the ringing stopped.
"Italien! For the last time, we are not going to do that! And if you're going to talk about it so much, at least call it what it is!"
Slightly disconcerted, Arthur did not reply right away.
"Wait, you do know what it's actually called, don't you?"
"Uhh... This is England."
"England?" There was a rustling as he probably checked his called I.D. "Oh... I'm sorry. I thought you were Italien calling me back again."
"... Do you want me to call you back later?"
"Nein. It's fine. What do you need?"
Arthur took a deep breath to brace himself.
"I need you to call America for me."
"Huh? Why? Is he okay?"
Ludwig and Alfred were not exactly best friends, but he was still concerned for his fellow country.
"Well... Uhh... France and I are worried that he is wearing himself a bit thin." He massaged his forehead with his free hand.
"Ah." There was a pause."Why don't you tell him that? I think he would rather hear it from you."
"He..." Arthur's voice caught in his throat.
"What?"
He cleared his throat and tried again. "I tried and he doesn't want to speak with me."
"Oh... Well, what should I say to him?" He sounded slightly amazed.
Arthur was not sure whether the amazement was from the fact that something might be wrong with Alfred or that he was asking Ludwig to help. Relief swept through Arthur all the same. Ludwig would at least try.
"Just tell him that he is bound to fail as a nation if he keeps it up," Arthur said with a bit more confidence.
"Okay, I will. Is there anything else?"
"No."
"Gut. Dann – Schönen Abend noch."
But, then a thought occurred to Arthur.
"Wait!"
"Ja?"
"Are you mad at us for World War Two?"
There was a long moment of tense hesitation from the other nation.
"When you say 'us', who do you mean?"
"Me, France, America, anyone at all?" Arthur literally held his breath.
Another unnaturally long pause ensued.
"To Amerika, I am mostly grateful. I was angry at you and Frankreich. Russland too. But it wasn't out of resentment, it was just because you were unfair." He hesitated for a moment. "Frankreich is... sometimes not easy to get along with. So, ja. There was a time when I was angry, but times have changed."
[Germany after WWII- 1945: Germany was to be ruled and governed by the Allied Powers. Germany was not officially sovereign all on its own until 1990. It was pretty much just because the East and West sides of Germany decided to have a fully democratic government, that the Allied powers relinquished control.]
Not knowing what else to say, Arthur just said: "Thank you." And he released the breath he had been holding.
"Huh? For what?"
"You have every right to be mad at us, but you forgave us. So uhh... Thanks for that, I guess."
There was a pause.
"We all did things we aren't proud of. But everyone is different from then"
Arthur could not think of what to say. He sat at his desk with the receiver to his mouth. Ludwig must have heard his heavy breathing, because he asked:
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. Yes, I am perfectly fine. Please, just... Call America when you get the chance."
An unspoken agreement passed between them to not mention anything else about the past.
"Einverstanden."
...oOo...
Ludwig hung the phone up. That seemed awfully out of character. Then again, everyone has been acting strange lately. He leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses so he could think. Why would England ask me of all people to talk to Amerika?
He feared for a minute that something was horribly wrong, but he had not heard anything from the soldiers on the army bases, so he figured that it could not be that serious.
[East and West Germany after the Fall- 1989: When the democratic and communist halves of Germany came together, it was tense. America feared civil war, so they offered to place permanent American army bases there to keep the peace. Many are still up and running today.]
Ludwig decided to get up and have coffee before he called Alfred. Something told him that the ensuing conversation would be tiring.
He stood up, stretched, and went into his spotless kitchen. Well, at least, it was spotless when he had last seen it. Now the kitchen was filled with steam. And there was corn, potatoes, fish, flour, oil, rice, tomatoes, cheese, and bundles of nameless spices thrown about everywhere.
"Germania! Germania! I'm making supper tonight!" A certain hyperactive redhead announced from where he was frying something in a pan.
"Ja, I can... See that," Ludwig said falteringly.
This was a pretty common occurrence but Ludwig still fought to keep his temper in check.
"Vee, Francia said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!" Feliciano kept his back turned to Ludwig as he switched to chopping tomatoes. Then he continued, "So then I decided to make that pasta you like! The one with the noodles made of potatoes-"
"Italien."
Feliciano seemed to engrossed in his task to focus on what Ludwig was saying. "-But I couldn't find potatoes anywhere, so I had to go to the store and get some. It's snowing really badly out there and then-"
"Italien."
"I came back and I couldn't find any fish. But then I remembered that I took it out of the freezer yesterday. Wow, it's really cold in here. How much snow do-"
Ludwig sighed. "Italien!"
"Vee~?" Feliciano finally turned to look at him with bright eyes and a dazzling smile.
He was momentarily thrown off by the fact that he finally had the smaller nation's attention. "Where is the coffee maker?"
Feliciano suddenly had an obsession with saving energy, so he always unplugged the coffee maker when he was done. However, he never wrapped the cord up properly, which drove Ludwig crazy. So they decided to put it into a cabinet when it was not in use. The problem with this was that, it seemed to jump magically from cabinet to cabinet.
"It's in this one!" Feliciano opened a cabinet, searched through all the contents, messed the entire order of the contents up, then went to the next cabinet to repeat the process.
Ludwig sat down at the table, not wanting to talk to the Italian any more than necessary, in case he brought that up again.
"Ho trovato!" Feliciano declared enthusiastically, and placed the newly found coffee maker on the counter.
The bigger nation moved to stand up, but then saw that his companion was already making a cup for him.
"You don't have to do that..." Ludwig started.
"No, no. I want to." He plugged the appliance into the wall and waited for it to start up.
"... Did Frankreich give you that advice as well?"
"No. I just want to." Feliciano turned to give him a glacier-melting smile.
Ludwig looked away hurriedly, and fell silent. He looked through a window to watch the snow fall against an indigo sky. Keeping his gaze on the window, he began uncertainly:
"You know... Italien... It's not that I don't want to..."
Feliciano looked out of the window as well. "I know. Francia said most countries don't see it the way he, Grecia, and I do. So, I should give you your time. And he said you would really want it someday, and you'll let me know when you do."
Still not meeting the other nation's eyes, Ludwig traced the patterns of the wooden table. "Ja... In my country, it is much more..." He trailed off when he could not find the words.
"Più profondo. That's what Francia said. Deeper."
The other nation just nodded. Feliciano's perceptiveness sometimes amazed him thoroughly. He watched the coffee drip into the pot in silence.
"I do want to, Italien. Just not now. There is a lot going on and we haven't been together very long yet, even if we have been through a lot."
"Sì, I know. If waiting will make it mean more, then I want to wait too." Feliciano smiled again. Then he got up to pour coffee for Ludwig.
The bigger country accepted the mug gratefully, and Feliciano went back to cooking. Ludwig sat there for a minute. With the cold snow on one side, and warm kitchen on the other. He remembered the days when it would just be him alone in his house. Living with Roderich and Elizabeta was not so bad, but having Feliciano living with him was different. The small country was warm and lively; he drove Ludwig completely nuts, but it was okay somehow.
Ludwig stood up and walked over to behind Feliciano.
"Italien."
"Vee?" He turned around.
The larger nation pulled the smaller one into a tight hug. At first, Feliciano was surprised, but then he returned the hug, burying his face into Ludwig's shoulder. The cup of coffee was placed on the counter, and Feliciano was pulled closer. They stood there for what felt like a moment, but it was actually a few minutes. Then Ludwig pulled away and kissed his lover's forehead. He grabbed his coffee off of the counter, and promptly turned around, before Feliciano could see his slightly red face.
Once he was back in his study, he sat down and listened to the sound of Feliciano singing some Italian song. Ludwig sipped the bitter drink while listening, he did not know the words, but it sounded like a very pretty song. Then he put his glasses back on and reached for the phone.
The American National Anthem played as he waited.
"Hey! Germany! What's good?" An obnoxious voice answered.
Suddenly, Ludwig had no idea what he was supposed to be saying.
He paused before settling on: "Um, England is pretty worried about you."
"...Oh..." The nation on the other end suddenly seemed put-out. "Well... There's nothing wrong here! I was a little tense with the elections and all, but the people have spoken and all that!" And just like that, his facade was back up.
"Why don't you tell that to England then? He thinks you have been avoiding him," Ludwig was trying to devise a way to tell the other nation that he was going to wear himself out.
There was a very loud laugh in response. "That guy? Worried about me?! He should worry about himself! He's going to kill himself with his own cooking someday!"
The older nation could not help but chuckle, but then he was serious again. "Be that as it may, he is not the only one who is worried."
"Oh puh-lease. I am totally fine" The other nation scoffed.
Ludwig chose his words carefully. "Amerika, this isn't a joke. You have to be careful. It isn't healthy to be as withdrawn as you were before the first World War, but ever since World War Two, you have been too involved with everybody else."
Alfred, for once, was silent.
"I'm not trying to criticize you, Amerika," Ludwig backtracked quickly, "But if there are battles to fight on your home front, then you shouldn't fight anyone else until it is over."
"Who says I'm fighting any battles here?" Alfred asked defensively.
"No one, no one." Ludwig realized that he needed to change tactics. "Just be careful, ja? You saw what it was like to fight a war and come out on top. You don't know what it is like to lose." He mentally hit his forehead against the desk for forgetting about Vietnam when he mentioned losing wars.
Alfred sighed like an impatient five year old. "I won't have to! Do you know how many people I have in my army?"
Silently thanking the higher powers that Alfred did not mention Vietnam, Ludwig said, "It isn't just numbers, and it isn't just strength. It's finances too. Everyone is running a little low on funds right now."
"Not me, my military is just fine with finances!"
Ludwig mentally sighed. "What about the rest of your country."
"What?"
"Is the rest of your country doing just as well with finances?"
"Of course! Americans will rise to any challenge!"
"... You are almost sixteen trillion dollars in debt, Amerika."
His hero mask slipped for a moment. "How... How'd you know that?"
Ludwig hesitated, unsure of what to say. "It's not really a big secret."
Alfred sighed heavily, as if about to deliver a long and stern speech. But the older nation beat him to it.
"Listen to me. It does not make you weak to ask for help. And if you worry about the past repeating itself so much, then you will be too concerned to worry about the present. Instead of worrying so much, learn from the past. Be worried about the past, certainly. But make time for the present. If you don't, then you will find yourself dealing with worse problems than what has been put behind you."
The other nation was silent for the moment, but then the hero facade was back. "Wow, I didn't know you could be so deep!"
Ludwig rubbed his forehead in irritation. "That wasn't the point, Amerika." He was getting nowhere.
"Chill out, dude. I know what I'm doing."
The older nation sighed. "For the good of the world, Amerika, I hope you do."
A cheerful voice called from the kitchen: "Germania! Dinner is done, when you're ready!"
Ludwig covered the receiver to reply: "I'll be there in a minute!"
When his attention was returned to the phone, he heard a snicker on the other end of the line. "Germania? Isn't that your grandfather or something?"
Blushing slightly again, Ludwig replied, "Nein... It's Italian for 'Germany'."
He could almost see the metaphorical light bulb go off above Alfred's head. "Ohhhh! You and Italy, huh? How long has that been going on?"
Feeling the need to return a fraction of the aggravation the other nation has caused him, Ludwig said, "Not nearly as long as you and England."
Then, with some satisfaction, he hung the phone up.
Ludwig continued sitting at his desk for a minute. He took a deep breath in and let it out, trying to put his thoughts in order. Why doesn't anyone ever figure out about Italien and I on their own? Am I really that cold to him?
In the end, he decided that he was not going to worry about such things, considering he was moments from eating supper with Feliciano. He finished his coffee quickly, folded his glasses up neatly, and looked out the window behind him. It was still snowing, and it would probably continue all night. Having snow on Christmas is nice.
Ludwig stood up and stretched again, he had not realized how tense that conversation made him.
When he went into the kitchen, the entire room was covered in a blanket of steam. It was tinged with the delicate scent of the spices that had been put into the pasta sauce. Two plates heaped with pasta were set on the table, and Feliciano just sat down. He placed a beer by Ludwig's plate, then proceeded to pour himself a glass of wine.
"Scusa for the mess. I'll clean it up after," Feliciano said with his bright smile.
Ludwig sat down across from him, then surveyed the demolished kitchen.
"Nein, leave it. You live here too... It should look like you do."
"Cosa?"
Ludwig looked away, embarrassed, as he repeated: "It should look like you live here... My house was so neat before you moved in. So... Make it your own."
Feliciano could do little more than smile wider. "I'm officially moved in?"
The comment took Ludwig off-guard. "Natürlich, you've been living here... I just want it to be your home too."
It hit the larger country then, just how much he had been holding the world at arm's length. And for how long. He was not the only country that had been doing it lately, but he was willing to be more open, if only to his precious Italien.
...oOo...
Translations: (long list now that it's completed... I'm sorry T_T )
parle du loup - speak of the devil (literal translation is 'speak of the wolf')
mon cheri - my dear, my love
assis-toi – sit down, have a seat
notre ami - our friend
vraiment – really, truly, seriously
Oui – yes, yeah
qui - who
mon petit chou – my little cabbage (it's a term of endearment... No weirder than calling kids 'pumpkin')
Ce dépend – That depends
tu parles encore le francais - you still speak french?
en peu - a little
calmes-toi – calm down, relax
nein – no, nah
ja – yes, yeah
Gut – good, okay
Dann – Schönen Abend noch – then good night, good evening
Einverstanden – Okay, understood, will do
Ho trovato – here it is, it's here
Più profondo – deeper
scusa – sorry, pardon
cosa – what, huh, come again
Natürlich - of course, naturally
A/N: Why are the countries referring to each other in their respective languages? Because I am the author of this fanfic and I decided so ^^ Oh the power =] !
And, I confess! I confess! France and Canada as a couple just grew on me! And then they were begging me to be a pairing in the story. And I was all like NO! but they were all like PLEASE! I held my ground, but they wanted to be a couple any way. Oh damn them and their cuteness -_-
So, for those of you who didn't get what Germany and Italy were talking about, they were talking about sex.