Phew. The spring semester on my university begins on the 1st of February, so, from then on, I won't be able to update as quickly as I did so far. In turn, it might be likely that with the time I spend on the making of them, they might improve… though I'm not sure.
Anyways, a really huge thanks for everyone who stuck with me so far! Permanent readers are an author's vodka… I mean, fuel xd
Oh, and one last thing: I think you all know what Hungary and Japan talk about ^.~ (Yaoi, of course xd)
Disclaimer: I still don't own them, although I'm tempted to ask for them to be my Easter present xd
7- Paris, the Meeting
It was the end of November, which gave Hungary- and most of the other nations as well- a more than good reason to dress up warm. That didn't mean a chill didn't run down her spine every single time she thought of France, although she knew as much that whatever revenge he had on mind it didn't include large audience. Feliciano told her of his failure in preventing (or even finding out) the plan about 5 days ago, sounding quite depressed in the e-mail. Ludwig sent news that Prussia was quite calm and kept away from France, so he certainly couldn't been in on the plotting, and according to Romano, Spain's case was the same. Not that the big ego of Francis would've ever allowed him to ask help. No, he probably wanted to show her not to take him so casually, and for that, he would only settle for his own handiwork- from the first bits till the very last nuances. What she didn't know, was when and how it'll happen (and a huge knot appeared in her stomach at the thought of being so helpless), but she be damned if she told him to get it over with at last. It would be like begging for mercy, and she was not famous for that. At least, she didn't used to be… Time taught her the importance of compromises, which she had to admit, even if she felt she was losing hold of her old self and giving up more and more parts of it; she acted more womanly now than she used to, held her tongue most of the time, and didn't swear that often (not when others heard her anyway). Sure, you could blame it all upon her growing up and becoming more serious in the process, but she felt it had more to it, as if she would've grown rusty.
She was nearly the last one arriving to the meeting room again, but this time, she didn't have to look for empty seats, for as it seemed, England saved her one- fortunately in a convenient distance from Francis, who shot her a malevolent smirk when she entered the room.
The meeting began and proceeded without any major mishaps (well, not counting America's ideas, Italy's rant about pasta and Germany's futile attempt to keep Feliciano at bay). They talked about various things, but what gave her a lot to think about was the fact that ever since that small smirk, France had been behaving normal towards her, not once casting a side-glance or slipping a snide remark. One thing he certainly proved: he could be patient, and liked to test just how very the other one was.
She didn't let it show, but her nerves were on the verge of giving in by the time they were finished and she scribbled down the city, hour and date of the next meeting. The idle chat as the nations left the room mingled with the sounds of chairs being moved by those that weren't as quick or wanted to wait until there won't be such a crowd at the door. Hungary herself shook England's hand for goodbye (they decided that the details of their relationship wasn't the other's business, and that they act with as much similarity to their previous behavior as they could), then headed towards the exit. As she passed a column, however, a hand took her firmly by the wrist, and soon enough, her hand was forced behind her back and she herself pulled into the dark offset. She hardly even opened her mouth when she felt some wet fiber blocking her nose and mouth. Having more than enough experience, she knew it must be chloroform, yet she had no choice but to breathe through it, and tried her best to keep her calmness- her head felt heavy, the sweet odor filling hew nose and lungs, her legs giving in.
'Hongrie… Réveille-toi…'
The soft male voice sounded distant, yet it at least gave her something to follow. Elizaveta slowly opened her eyes and blinked a few times to get the blurry images and blobs in front of her in focus.
She was sitting on a chair in a quite spacious room, which, judging by the interior, could only be the… the sitting roomof Francis (a little bit of comfort- at least it wasn't the bedroom, which would've indicated rape…), with the owner leaning down to her so that their eyes were leveled. When she tried to move her arms, she noticed she was tied really tightly.
'Oh, you're awake. Good. I guess you have an idea why you're here…'
'Well, I have a really good idea as to why you kidnapped me, but consider yourself lucky that I'm not a human- you do understand that chloroform and the likes can cause cardiac failure, don't you?'
'Je suis désolé… but as you pointed out, you couldn't have died this easily, and I know about this side-effect of chloroform, that's why I took it quickly away from your nose.'
His voice was practically dripped in sarcasm at the first sentence, and it still held a haughty air when he finished.
'So… You remember the last meeting, don't you?'
'I do, but I thought you have better things to do than lingering here.' Francis grabbed her chin and held it firmly, forcing his captive to meet his gaze.
'Your tongue won't help you now, so you'd better hold it if you don't want me to stuff something into your mouth.' His usually warm, blue eyes were now slightly narrowed and his lips pressed together into a thin line- a clear sign that he was much more serious than usually, so she only nodded, as much as she could in that situation, indicating she will listen to him. The blonde seemed to calm down- he let go of her and took a couple of steps away. 'You are right in a way, though: I do have more pressing issues, so I'll be quick. The punishment will be…' he glanced at her for a long time, but strangely enough, not with the stripping kind of look he so often gave to various people (regardless of gender), but rather with a common musing one. She only arched an eyebrow, not wanting to try if he was ready to stuff her mouth. 'Have you ever considered singing or stand-up comedy?' he asked, earning wide eyes from Hungary. He sighed.' 'I take that as a no, then. You have to begin everything sometime…'
'You… you want me to make a performance?' she asked back. Her expression could be easily mistaken for "you've got to be kidding me", but that was only a part of it- she was somewhere relieved, having imagined way worse (and more perverted) ways of penalty, plus, it surprised her a lot. And she thought it wouldn't include audience… plus, she liked singing, but did it only when she was safe and all alone. All right, now she was getting nervous…
France stepped to her again, untying the ropes and grabbing her wrist. 'Of course. Now, come on, or we'll be late.'
She took a large gulp, her stomach now in a tight knot. This was getting far less easy then she thought at first… Before she could ask any questions, though, he blindfolded her, they left the house and set off with the aquamarine Peugeot of Francis. She didn't know Paris well enough to try and memorize the turns they took not to mention that she didn't even know the name of the street Francis lived in.
After fifteen minutes that seemed much longer, they parked, and he finally took the blindfold off, but pulling her with him too quickly for her to take a look around. The building looked too much like a theatre, but they were inside in no time, where he gave her a set of garments and pushed her into a changing room, telling her to hurry up.
She changed into them, and couldn't help but notice that it looked like a nursemaid's outfit- what, she'll have to act? On a stage? She couldn't help but feel even more desperate to run away- but there was no turning back, not now… She went out after Francis began to knock on her door. He nodded- he himself had changed as well, into the costume of... was it Mercutio from his musical Roméo et Juliette? She had to admit, he didn't look bad in it at all, but…
'Eh? You're coming as well? No… no way… it's…'
'Oh yes, it's Les beaux, les laids.' He nodded with a smirk, but she didn't have time for reaction, because they both were ushered towards the stage- and suddenly, she found herself in the spotlight. She blinked a few times, and tried to overcome her nerves- at least she didn't see the audience…
The music began to play and she counted in herself to four before singing. It was easier after the first word: the music seemed to engulf her, and she turned in the direction of France, smirking.
'Hahaha, rient les gens autour/ Hahaha, ils rient d'un amour/Qu'ils ne comprennent pas, qui ne sentent pas/Alors c'est pour ça… Qu'ils font./ Hahaha, riez, riez fort/ vous versez des larmes, qu'ils riront encore/ Dieu que c'est facile, pour les imbéciles/D'être aveugle et sourd à un grande amour/D'être aveugle et sourd.' Oh, it was all worth for the face he made! He clearly expected her to give in to stage-fright, or to have an awful voice- which she didn't, although it was true she looked (and sounded, most probably) far too young for the role of the nurse, not to mention that her pronunciation was surely lacking. It wasn't that hard to act as the song required: He had to snap out of his shock quickly: this was not the whole show, where it would be Benvolio's turn, so much was apparent from the nearly empty stage (not counting the two of them)- they made a duet out of it. His eyes narrowed and his expression changed to the mirror image of hers, as he approached her.
'Hahaha, mon Dieu, qu'elle est drôle/Avec ces cheveux là,elle a l'air d'un saule/Comment Roméo de nous le plus beau/Pourrait-il vraiment tenir ses serments,/ Comme nous tous il ment.'
And so it went on- they teased and mocked each other until the song was over and they left the stage with a bit of a blush after the singing. She heaved a great sigh and suddenly felt how weak her legs became. He noticed her instability and pulled two chairs over- they were sitting in a kind of lounge for actors just about to enter stage or just leaving it.
'You did better than I expected.' He said at last, pouring two glasses of water for them.
'You still had the chance to mock me without consequences.' she pointed out, since the song mostly consisted of him making fun of her. At least he didn't pick a kissing song…- she thought, taking a sip of her drink, adding. 'I must've been ridiculous, I'm way too young to be the nurse, and I'm more of a soprano than a mezzo.'
'Oui, c'es vrai. But I'd return home quickly and I wouldn't want to read tomorrow's headlines if I were you.'
'No way… we couldn't have been THAT good…' she finally reacted after closing her gaping mouth. He got up and beckoned her to follow him.
'Your luggage is already in my car, so I'll drop you at the airport.'
'How come you're so nice all of a sudden? I thought you were mad at me.'
'I was, before the little show.'
'But me doing so well kind of ruined you precious revenge, didn't it?'
'Partly, but you already said you aren't fit for this role and that I got to make fun of you. Your voice is good, but with your looks and age, any director could certainly only imagine you as Juliet. '
They were already at the car, and soon enough they headed off towards the airport. Apparently, France considered this case closed, but you couldn't be sure with him. Hungary didn't dare to start a conversation, but she had to admit she enjoyed herself on the stage- not that she'd say that out loud, of course. And what if he could help her with matchmaking? No, she had to be 1000% sure he didn't hold a single grudge anymore before asking- she'll have to wait. She wanted to try on her own first, anyway…
But… if what he said is true... Then, she'll have a really uncomfortable call from her bosses tomorrow… She didn't have luck with meetings at all, as it seemed.
AN
Finally, I finished it! I have a serious temptation to complain, but I brought this all upon myself, so… Oh, and I don't speak a word of French (I understand some words, but I couldn't put a sentence together to save my life) so, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. This will be the first and last time I ever used a language I don't speak -.-
The musical Roméo et Juliette is one of my favorites, and as you could see, I know the song Les Beaux les Laids is actually not a duet, but I didn't know how to bring the others in, so… Let's pretend it was just a musical selection If you don't know the musical: this song is practically the scene where Benvolio and Mercutio make a laughing-stock out of Juliet nurse, who came to speak to Romeo.
About France: I feel I failed. He should be far more perverted, but… I didn't find it in me to make him cruel. I'm pretty sure he himself would've picked Un amour hereux (which is about the ball), the only song with kissing, at least I understand so- correct me, if I'm wrong, I only heard the songs, never saw the whole show (only till halfway this mocking scene). I even had a scenario in my head with Iggy in the audience, but by the time this came to my mind, I already typed half of the first verse, so… plus, I didn't want to make Hun-chan to give in easily, and the point of the second option would've been the misunderstanding it would've caused- her resistance would've kind of ruined it.
Yes, chloroform can cause cardiac failure, that's why it's not used so much anymore. By the way, it was a French who discovered choroform, so France might know it quite well. In case you need a translation:
Hungary, wake up.
I'm sorry.
Yes, that's true.