Author's Note: Just so you guys are warned, there's a bit of RusPru in this chapter because… Well, I ship it, and it's relevant-ish. But, it's only for a while, and it will go right back to PruAus either half way through this chapter, or in the next one. Don't be alarmed, and please don't hate me.
Again, thank you all for reading this, for putting it on your alerts, and for reviewing ^^ It means a lot to see you guys enjoy this.
Disclaimer:I do not own Hetalia, or its characters. They belong to Himaruya; I just took the characters and twisted them to my will.
~X~
Gilbert Beilschmidt
~X~
"Stay away from me, Ivan," Gilbert warned as the other slowly edged closer. Somehow, he managed to curl in on himself without falling forward. Everything was cramped and hurt; he hadn't been out of this room in almost a year.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Ivan murmured. His hands were held up in a sign of surrender as he approached the broken albino.
His head snapped up to glare at the Russian. "I said get back," Gil snarled. "Don't come near me, Ivan, or I swear to God, I'll—"
"You'll what, Gilly?" Ivan sighed. "You're leg is busted, and you barely have the strength to sit up properly. Hush and let me help you."
Gilbert didn't remember agreeing. He honestly didn't. But, considering Ivan was soon behind him, tending to his deepest cuts, Gil must have. Or he didn't put up a fight, and Ivan took that as a 'yes'.
Cold fingers drifted down his still-bleeding back. "I really am sorry," he said conversationally. "I don't like hurting you. We've been friends for a long time." There was a quiet rustle, as Ivan searched through the first-aid bag.
"Friends don't hit friends with sink pipes," Gil deadpanned, trying not to wince as the rubbing alcohol went over the broken skin.
"Friends don't get friends sent to the hospital either, but we both know you've been doing that since we were seven," he replied smoothly. "Don't worry, though. I hold no grudge."
"Then why the hell am I here?" he growled. "If you're not mad at me, then why the hell do you have me chained in the basement?"
A light chuckle broke through the dark atmosphere for a moment. "You'll run away if I don't," he said simply. "If we are to be friends, then I can't have you leaving."
"You and I both know that's bullshit. Why am I here?" Gil could feel the needle as it pierced his skin. The thread as it tugged his skin back together.
Ivan hummed quietly. "Not yet, little rabbit," he eventually answered. "I will tell you later, but not now. Heal first, yes?" He placed a gentle kiss on the top of Gil's head, as if that would make everything better.
They sat in silence for a while as Ivan continued to tend to the wounds he had inflicted.
"Why are you doing this?" Gilbert finally asked as the taller man started wrapping gauze around his torso. "Why are you beating me, and then trying to fix me? It doesn't make any sense."
"Because I didn't mean to hurt you," he replied simply.
Gil shook his head slowly, remorsefully. If only that were true. "Yes you did. Ivan, just… Why? I don't get it."
Ivan moved so he was now sitting in front of the Prussian. "It's like you always used to say, Gilbert," he said with a sad smile. "The prince cannot understand the mind of the monster." As he spoke, his hands slid down Gil's leg, feeling where the bone was broken. With a grim frown, he looked up to meet Gil's questioning gaze. "This will hurt a bit. I need to set the bone so you can walk properly again."
"If you're going to keep me trapped down here, I really don't see the point," he muttered under his breath. Still, he braced himself for what was to come.
"Because you'll escape eventually," Ivan replied. "You are a 'prince', and that is what they do. But I want to know why that is. I will answer your 'why', if you will answer mine."
Gilbert closed his eyes tightly as Ivan started to re-set his bones. He could feel every centimeter Ivan forced it to move. Once he heard the sickening crack, Gilbert thought he was going to pass out. He felt like he might throw up.
"Fuck," he hissed. "Fine, fine, it's a deal! What's your question?"
"Why will you leave?" Ivan repeated as he started to wrap his leg so it wouldn't come out of place. "Or, who will you leave for? Not for your brother, I'm sure. And I know that you wouldn't leave this monster for the one who lives in your home. So, who are you leaving me for?"
In spite of everything that had transpired in this basement, despite his resentment for the Russian before him, Gilbert couldn't help but smile. It was weak, a mere shadow of what it used to be, but all the same…. "A princess," he breathed. "A beautiful princess with night-dark hair, ivory skin, and the most beautiful violet eyes you will ever see." For a moment, he fell silent. "I made a promise that I would return by the snowfall."
Lost in his reminiscing, Gilbert almost missed the hurt flash through Ivan's eyes. "Leave it to you," Ivan sighed. "Leave it to you to live an actual fairy tale, right down to the princess. It's already August."
They sat in silence for a while, before Gilbert asked, "So why are you keeping me here? I just came to offer my condolences for your father, and next thing I know, you gave me a concussion."
Ivan shook his head slowly. "There are many reasons, little rabbit," he said. "I thought you knew about how he died. I don't want to risk that getting out."
"Why else?" Gilbert pressed, harshly. "That can't be it. You know I can keep secrets with the best of them."
A sad smile twisted his lips. "I wanted to live a fairy tale too," he admitted. "The one we had been writing before."
~X~
Gilbert woke up frozen. Usually after one of these dreams, he would instinctively flinch, or shy away. But today, he could do nothing but stare at the wall in front of him.
He had forgotten… Ivan used to be a prince in Gilbert's stories. And when they were younger, the two of them decided they were going to rule a kingdom together. A kingdom far away from their abusive fathers.
Tears pricked the back of his eyes. "The prince was cursed by a monster," he muttered to himself. "He would not get a happily ever after."
He took a shaky breath. This was always the hard part of the story, remembering the monster's side.
Because the monster had not always been a monster.
"I thought he was going to kill me," Ivan whispered. "You understand, right? I didn't have another choice…."
"I know," Gilbert answered. "I know, I get it, leave me alone."
He sighed heavily. He was starting to get really tired of these stories. Just like he was getting really tired of Roderich acting like he was nothing but an inconvenience. He could tell that Specs wanted him here. It was so easy to see.
Well, Roderich apparently didn't see. He could really be an idiot, considering how intelligent he was.
~X~
Roderich's house was too big. Gilbert kept forgetting about that. It was next to impossible to find the little priss sometimes. So, instead of going from door to door, Gil decided on a quicker method. "Roderich-I-need-to-talk-to-you!" Gilbert screamed at the top of his lungs.
From a few doors away, he heard a loud thud. "Don't shout in my house!" he heard the brunette yell back.
'Well, mission accomplished',' he decided with a smirk. "You're one to talk," he said as he opened the door to the music room. "What with you're shrieking and all."
The piano bench was overturned—likely the source of the 'thud'. Paper was scattered everywhere, and a disheveled Roderich was in the midst of the mess.
"Did you seriously fall off the bench?" Gil asked. "That's pushing clumsy, even for you."
The brunette flushed. "No, I didn't fall of the bench," he retorted. "Now why are you yelling in my house at this ungodly hour?"
Gil's brow furrowed in confusion. "It's almost noon, Specs," he stated.
Roderich stared blankly at him as he processed this information. Eventually, his wide-eyed gaze turned into a slight glare. "You have no idea how long I was up last night," he muttered darkly as he started to reorganize all of the sheet music scattered about. "If you're going to continue to stay here, at least sleep somewhere other than the piano room. I'm starting to lose it a bit, not being able to play whenever I please because you're in there."
"I want to tell you about how the prince escaped the monster's lair," Gilbert interjected. "If you'll listen, then you can put me in any damn room you want."
Roderich considered this for a moment. "You have to help me pick these up, too," he bargained. "Which monster and which prince are we talking about this time? I'm beginning to lose track."
With a shrug, he dropped to his knees. "The oldest prince and the ice monster. From the first story.
"As you remember, the oldest prince went with the monster to protect his brother, and make peace with its kingdom. For decades, he was in its lair, going through torture after torture. However, he endured them all silently.
"The only reason he did not speak was because he feared the monster would use his words against him. It had happened before with the water demon."
Roderich suddenly snatched the small stack of papers from his hands. "You need to keep these organized," he nagged.
Gil's eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"
"The prince was stuck with the monster for a very long time. The water demon used to use the prince's words against him, so when the ice one was torturing him, he kept his mouth shut," he summarized neatly as he started putting the pages into different piles. For a moment, violet eyes flicked up to meet his. "Go on; I'm listening."
With a short sigh, he complied. "Eventually, the oldest prince realized that he needed to escape. He had someone waiting for him in his kingdom, and he didn't want to disappoint them. Again.
"Before the prince left for his brother, he met the princess in secret. That day, he made a promise to return to her one day." He smiled at the brunette fondly. "Multiple times, the prince had tried to escape so he could make good on his promise. Each time he failed. Eventually he thought he would have to kill the monster in order to return home, but then…" He trailed off, unsure of how much he should actually say.
The sheet in his hand was Moonlight Sonata. Marked up to hell in faded pencil, and dark pen. Small sketches were in the corners, likely from when the musician lost interest in the song, or 'piece' as he called it. A small smile turned his lips. How like Roderich to draw such nonsense.
"Then?" Roderich prodded gently, sliding the paper from his grasp.
Gil smiled bitterly. "Then he told the monster of his promise to the princess. The next time he tried to escape, he was successful."
Roderich thoughtfully organized the papers. "If he was a monster, why didn't the prince kill him?" he asked.
Almost all the paper had been gathered. Gilbert gathered the few remaining pages as he answered. "Because the monster wasn't evil. Ivan was actually a sweet guy before his father cursed him. The prince realized this, and thought that the monster had been punished enough."
He chanced a look down at the top page in his hand. In Roderich's perfect handwriting, it read:
Water demon: Anna Beilschmidt
Evil King: Marcus Beilschmidt—deceased
Ice demon: Mr. Winters Braginski—deceased
"Specs….?"
Before he could ask, the page was nearly ripped from his hands. "It's none of your concern," Roderich responded quietly.
Gilbert glared at the musician before him. "I think it is." He took the page back from the now-nervous man. "What is this about?"
