Some new arrivals at the palace delightfully distract aching minds, and two souls grow closer.
x
I hope you all are staying safe in these difficult times. Much love to all of you, please stay indoors and practice health safety!
...xXx...
In the end, Austria nearly slept on the couch.
The gentleman hadn't had to sneak into his own bed since the eighties. He couldn't bring himself to this night, either.
Even then, it had only been a one time fluke during that decade, and he rather found he didn't care for the feelings that accompanied the act. It was odd; having to sneak into one's own sanctified space. The bedroom was like a shrine to oneself, where one could stash all of their secrets in safety and sleep soundly. There was an air all one's own; the smell of home within the home, every object familiar. A comfort.
Having that kind of intimacy had allowed him many times in the past to avoid certain floorboards and to know the perfect speed with which to open his door so it didn't creak. Old homes had their many quirks, and his was no exception.
It was well after midnight by the time his assistant left. Papers that would usually only take moments for him to oversee took much longer. The Austrian wasn't quite in the right headspace to handle more than a few of the insurance concerns and read a single report about the effects of the spontaneous flooding affecting the older structures and roads throughout his capital. Much of the paperwork being presented to him was out of courtesy, for him to be able to keep up with the many goings on inside and out of his government.
Due to an ever increasing headache, however, and a sudden nosebleed that had Ludwig scolding him, the Austrian couldn't handle more than a handful of papers regaling him with the ever increasingly long list of costs and damages. Luis agreed to leave him be for the night and stated that he would return within the next few days when they were both more amicable, and Austria made a mental note to make sure that he would get a bonus before the week was out.
Reluctantly dosed up on more medication for said headache via the combined efforts of Luis and Ludwig, Austria wanted to sleep. Luis had left, and his German companion had eagerly collapsed into the room across the hall. Liechtenstein flitted around in the background for hours on end, before disappearing into the spare bedroom she occupied.
His home as a whole was dark and quiet, and his bedroom was no different. The master bedroom was still, the air cool.
The Austrian spent a few careful moments navigating his dresser drawers and donning his pajamas. Something wool, something warm. Once that was done, the man crept across the floor to the edge of his bed.
He hesitated. Light breathing could be heard from within the canopy.
Really, now, he worried. What am I doing? It's my own bed, after all. It's not like we haven't been sleeping together the past week. Nothing has changed.
Except that was a lie.
'Please know that I care about you, too, Rod.'
Austria bit his lip, fingers tapping against his thigh.
How was he supposed to sleep soundly beside the love of his life when he'd been told such a thing in return? How? His heart was only so strong, and most of that previous strength had been found in quiet obscurity. Of his feelings remaining unknown to his beloved Swiss. Now everything was out in the open and said Swiss had even—he had even said that!
Never would he claim to be particularly brave, but at least his sofa was comfortable.
Austria turned around to leave.
A hand caught his wrist, and he jumped. He turned to see the dark silhouette of Switzerland sitting up and leaning around the curtain.
"It's late," the blond whispered, his voice thick with sleep.
The Austrian wondered if the other could feel the way his pulse jumped around like an excited poodle as that warm hand held his wrist firmly.
Without another word, the Swiss tugged him closer to the edge of the bed. His heart threatened to put him in a headlock if he dared to pull away.
How can I refuse?
...xXx...
The Austrian man didn't know what he did to irk God so much to put him through this illness, while simultaneously receiving blessings enough to give him the opportunity to wake up to the love of his life tucked under his arm.
Austria had stirred awake sometime late in the morning, if the chittering of the birds at his sill were any indication. Coolness hung in the air and kissed his nose, and he breathed deeply. The rest of him was comfortably warm underneath the quilt, and a foreign weight laid along his left side. He hardly needed to look to see whose weight it was. He would recognize the feel of the man alongside him anywhere.
The brunet leaned his cheek against the head of soft hair that laid upon his shoulder, exhaling in a quiet hum.
With a reluctant groan, Austria ever so gingerly slid out from under the slumbering man and sat up. Violet eyes gazed down at the tranquil face of the Swiss, over freckled cheeks and pale eyelashes laying upon said cheeks, and he thought, If only I didn't have to move, I could sleep here happily for an age.
Almost as if he could read his mind, Switzerland's brow furrowed and the loose hand that laid on the front of the gentleman's pajama shirt tightened into a fist. Austria's heart fluttered and he paused, watching the blond for any signs that he might be waking up.
After a still moment, Switzerland's hand relaxed and let go of his shirt. The Austrian almost wished he hadn't.
Holding back an eye roll towards his own inhibitions, Austria carefully slid out of bed and closed the drapery behind him.
Imagine Gretta's face, he thought, if I told her that I was late picking her up because Vash was sleeping on me. A heat rose in his cheeks as he stretched and slid on his glasses. Imagine!
The dark-haired man checked the time and swiftly went through his morning routine and dressed himself.
Donning a light grey button down and thin slacks, the Austrian pulled on an even lighter grey wool, knitted V-neck sweater overtop his shirt. Glancing at his overall look in the mirror while he styled his hair for the day, he knew that the pale, neutral colors made him look even more sallow than he meant to, but he couldn't be bothered to change.
Austria went without a necktie of any kind for the day. The usual comfort he got from the added formality had morphed into feeling like he couldn't breathe with anything around his throat. As if the back of his tongue was weighed down by a bag of sand. He even left the top button on his dress shirt open.
Dabbing a small amount of sandalwood cologne on his collarbone, Austria picked up his phone and left the master bedroom to his sleeping companion.
His pace was unhurried as he walked down the hall and descended the stairs. Both of the occupied spare bedroom doors were left open, and the beds were made up for the day. Open curtains let cloud covered sunlight filter through the air.
At least it's not raining.
Reaching the landing, Austria smelled toast and coffee. His stomach sank inward. No breakfast for him, it seemed.
Following the smell and sounds of food being cooked, the brunet came into the heart of his home. The kitchen was much warmer than the rest of the manor, thanks in no small part to the stove that was currently in use. The tall figure in front of said stove had his back to him, and a smaller figure sat at the counter island. The two were chatting easily back and forth.
Austria hesitated at the glass separator, only for a second, before stepping forward and announcing himself.
"Guten Morgen," he said, catching their attention.
"Guten Tag," the German corrected. "It's nearly noon."
"Of course," Austria consented as Liechtenstein piped up with her own "Good morning!" He felt a smirk tug the corner of his mouth as Germany turned back to the stove with a small harrumph.
"Did you sleep well?" the young woman asked.
"Fairly," he said as he fetched a glass from a nearby cupboard. "I think I only woke up once or twice."
Stepping behind his gruffer counterpart, the Austrian filled it with water from the tap and took a long drink.
A vibrant red shape caught his eye, and he spent the better part of the moment gazing at the robin perched upon a fragile branch before him.
Then a slight tingling lit up the back of his tongue and he lowered his glass, staring at the remaining water with confusion. It tasted . . . sour? He smelled the glass and nothing caught his notice, but as soon as he took another sip he spat the mouthful back out. What in the world?
Austria cleared his throat and spoke to the man at his left. "Is there something wrong with the water?" He hadn't noticed while brushing his teeth.
"What?" Germany turned and glanced at the disgusted expression of the aristocrat.
"The water tastes odd," he said. He jerked his hand with the glass back as the blond tried to take it from him. "Nein! It's revolting!"
"Just let me see it," the German grumbled, taking the glass from him on his second try. The man sniffed and sipped at the water, his lip curling. He spat into the sink and set the glass down.
"See?" Austria turned the knobs on the faucet, checking the water pressure and color of the liquid. Both seemed perfectly normal. Germany cupped a hand underneath the stream and took another drink, this time with no reaction.
"I'll check it out after we eat," Germany said, drying his hand on a nearby towel and going back to the pot of noodles he was boiling. He frowned into the pot suspiciously. "Maybe the pipework was damaged by the tree."
"I sure hope not." The Austrian stepped across the kitchen to pick up his car keys from the bowl on a counter beside the fridge, checking the time above the stove. "I have to go pick up Gretta and Lettie now, so I'm leaving you in charge."
Germany huffed in affirmation. "Ja, ja. I'm making enough for them, too."
"Would you like me to go with you?" Liechtenstein offered, perking up in her seat.
Austria smiled, pleased that she seemed like she was back to her normal self, as opposed to the night before. The sight of her light green eyes and rosy cheeks set a calm rhythm in his chest. He stepped around the island and gave a tender kiss to the top of her head.
"I'll manage," he assured. "Could you maybe air out a couple of the spare bedrooms while I'm gone?"
"Of course!" the girl said right away. "Which ones?"
"Any on the second floor will do. You pick." The man adjusted his glasses as he walked out into the Great Hall. He called over his shoulder, "Danke euch beiden. I should be back in a little more than an hour."
"Drive safely!" Liechtenstein chirped, leaning out of the kitchen threshold to see him off.
"Ja, watch out for downed trees and power lines," Germany called to him. "Schweiz and I saw quite a few yesterday."
"Will do."
Austria slid on his shoes and buttoned up his pea coat, wrapping an ebony wool scarf around his neck. He closed the door behind him and stood on the porch, taking a moment to slip on his dark leather gloves as he deeply inhaled the cold, autumn air.
The sky was cloudy, yet bright, and a low fog wafted over the grassy valley. The days were no longer hot enough to chase away the condensation until well into the afternoon. The Austrian always adored this time of year; when his valleys and mountains were dyed flaming reds, yellows, and dark violets. The soothing nose of autumn gently nudging the wilderness before the teeth of winter bit in. Everything cooled and calmed, and people became more festive.
He already knew this year would be much different.
Austria made his way towards the city. Traffic was thick and claustrophobic once he got into Vienna proper, heading for the Wien Westbahnhof station for the second time in as many weeks. The sight of emergency crews out on the streets repairing broken down electric poles, blown out windows, and damaged vehicles was incredibly common. Collection crews were out cleaning up fallen sticks from trees and shrubbery, flown about trash bins, and other bits of debris along the roads and sidewalks. Many people were rushing towards markets only to find the stalls closed. Then to bigger grocery and department stores for necessities, only to find them lacking and enforcing curfews.
The dark-haired man listened closely to the radio as the host reiterated a new federal announcement that was closing schools and alerting places of employment to practice caution and basic hygiene safety. The notion of what sort of pandemic was spreading was still up in the air, but the radio host was advising people to keep an eye out for familiar symptoms. Stomach pains, cramping muscles, hair loss, coughing, bleeding from any orifice—all signs to head to a nearby medical center. Hospitals and clinics were overflowing with the infected, but there were dozens of temporary camps set up across the nation to house more sick and test those who have symptoms. A national self-quarantine was encouraged, with citizens being urged to stay home and reduce travelling outside if at all possible.
It had been a long, long time since Austria had experienced a nationwide epidemic. He didn't miss the overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness.
Reaching the train station, the nation pushed it all from his mind as best he could. He sent a text to Gretta to let her know he'd arrived and watched the ebb and flow of the masses, his fingers tapping a tune on the inside of his arm as he kept an eye out for his new wards. Soon, his vigilance paid off.
"Oh, Roderich!" Gretta called from around a group of students. The woman rushed over to him, and he spotted Lettie following right behind. Both of them looked reasonably rumpled and tired, wearing sweats and thick coats, laden with bags and a pet carrier.
Austria accepted their greetings with a hearty embrace each and led them home.
The drive seemed to go quicker now that he had someone to talk with. In no time at all they were pulling into the aristocrat's long, sloping drive up to his valley estate. He didn't miss the way that his two companions' eyes widened as they peered out of the windows at the rising palace.
Gretta huffed a small laugh. "You know, if you weren't the one driving, I'd say you've got the wrong place. This is your home?"
"Yes, of course. I've lived here for most of my life." Austria glanced in the rearview mirror at Lettie. "It's a family heirloom."
The young lady was craning her neck to see the front of the estate stretch out along the cliffside as he pulled into the turnaround to park. "I thought your last name was Edelstein, not Habsburg," she muttered.
Austria couldn't help his chuckle. "Touché."
"Be nice," Gretta scolded lightly. "We're his guests."
Austria shut the car off and turned to them for a quiet moment. "It's quite all right. What's mine is yours while you're here, so feel free to roam about."
Both of the ladies looked at him with surprise. Lettie excitedly beamed at him and she hopped out of the car, grabbing their boxed up cat as quick as she could. Gretta sat beside the gentleman for a beat longer, and reached out to grab both of his hands in hers, eyes creased with sincerity.
"Thank you for this, Roderich," she said. "I know how last minute this is."
"It's my pleasure."
"Really, you're too kind to me and my family."
Austria smiled softly and gave her hands a squeeze. "Come on." He helped to gather their bags and guide them up the gated walkway, continuing melodiously, "Let's get you inside and filled with a hot meal. Lunch should be ready soon."
"Okay."
If he thought their faces were awed before, he wished he had a free hand to record their expressions as they entered his Great Hall. Lettie was looking around at the marble and golden filigree, the lines of paintings and rugs; her eyebrows having long gone missing under her bangs. Gretta appeared to be more of the same as her daughter, if seeming more timid by the second. Austria watched them in amusement as he shut the door and slid his boots off. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how oddly opulent his palace home would seem to, well, normal folk.
"How big is this place?" Lettie asked. The teen was rushing to pull her coat and boots off.
Austria gazed around contemplatively as he took the cat carrier from her. "Oh, it's quite small, actually. Only 75 rooms, not including the ones in my side residence, which we're currently in."
"Side residence?!"
"Small?" Gretta added, gaze doubtful.
"Yes, for a palace. And again, I'm not including the new addition. That would make it 88 rooms." Austria stepped through the foyer and glanced back over his shoulder to make sure they were following. "Though, it seems all of my guest rooms are full up in this part of the house, so you'll be staying further down the wing. I hope you don't mind."
As if on cue, a little yellow blur flew out from the living room to greet them.
"Hallo, hallo!" Liechtenstein chirped, smiling widely as she patted down her daffodil-colored skirt.
Lettie lit up even more as she returned the excited greeting. Liechtenstein offered to show them to their rooms and talked happily with the teen girl as they climbed the stairs. Austria and Gretta walked behind them a ways, quieter and less exuberant.
The gentleman watched Lettie, asking her mother carefully, "How is she holding up?"
"About as well as you'd expect." Gretta glanced at him, hazel eyes revealing their exhaustion behind her half-lensed glasses. "But better than me."
Austria shifted the bags he carried onto one arm and wrapped the other around her shoulders. For a moment, he remembered what it was like when she was just barely Lettie's age and he'd met her for the first time. How this young woman was so skilled in her craft and no nonsense to her more frivolous customers—of which he was guilty of being one—and how she was as smart as a whip, able to discern the off-ness about him within their first year of acquaintance.
How far she'd grown.
Austrian gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I've arranged to have you both taken to see him tomorrow. So rest tonight."
Gretta leaned against him.
"Thank you."
...xXx...
After the new arrivals were settled into their rooms, Liechtenstein offered to take the overwhelmed duo on a bit of a tour around the estate. Austria wanted to do it himself, but the young lady tugged him off to the side to whisper in his ear.
"You should go help with lunch."
Taken aback by the request, the gentleman automatically agreed. By the time he called out as much the three ladies were already wandering further down the wing. He gave a wave and turned back towards the main home.
Reaching the Great Hall once more, Austria made his way towards the kitchen. The warm aroma of bread and sizzling onions and spices filled his lungs, and he could hear soft melodies echoing up the hall from the kitchen radio. Slowing his steps as he approached the threshold, he also heard a quiet humming, the sound lifting his heart up like a pair of wings.
Peering around the doorway, a captivating visage met his curious stare.
The handsome man at the counter was humming and stepping lightly to the smooth sounds radiating from the little radio on the bar. He was currently stirring a pungent pan of chopped onions as he moved, pinching some seasoning from the side and sprinkling it over the sauté. Austria noticed a pot of water and a flat pan laid on the other half of the stovetop, squiggly noodles layered upon it.
However delicious everything looked and smelled, the most appealing sight to the aristocrat was the Swiss himself—humming and swaying and stealing his heart all over again.
I love him. His soul sang its familiar lament, a whimper on the wind of his exhale. God, I'm so afraid, his thoughts turned. How am I to live without him now that he knows he's my everything? My only, my darling, my Vash?
Austria had a lock on the box where he'd kept the keepsakes of his love for over a millennia now, and he'd resigned himself to never giving away the key for the rest of his long life. Until now. He was torn to pieces by the hunger within him that couldn't be satiated and the terrible hesitance that held him back from greeting the other man. How can I continue like this when I know I'm not his? That I'll never be. His chest ached like no other day before it—truly an accomplishment, all things considered—and the gentleman nearly spun around and ran away.
The sight of the Swiss tapping the spatula in time with the drumbeat was the only glue keeping his feet from bolting.
God, why did you make me a coward?
Austria had to peel himself away from the doorway before his heart leapt out of his chest and into the oven. He cleared his throat and forced himself to call out a rather weak, "Good morning."
Bright viridian eyes lifted to meet his own. He looked good, so good, refreshed after a long night's sleep at last. Switzerland blew a stray hair out of his face and pointed towards the island. "Welcome back. I made you some coffee."
Austria gravitated towards the steaming mug like a moth to flame, taking a grateful drink. "Vielen dank. Where's Ludwig?"
"Currently?" The Swiss eyed the clock. "No idea. Was running around the house like a madman when I got up. He basically threw lunch on my shoulders and took off." He pointed the oniony spatula at the aristocrat with an arched eyebrow. "So no complaints about my cooking."
"I never complain." Austria crossed the gap between them in a single step, sipping his mug as he stood next to his companion in front of the stove. "What's on the menu?"
"Tyrolean dumplings and cheese spaetzle."
"Wonderful." Austria pinched a little of what he assumed was nutmeg on the side and added it to his coffee. He was correct. "Would you like assistance?"
"Depends." The blond frowned at the onions before him.
"On what?"
Switzerland set the spatula down and turned, facing the other fully. He rested a hand on the brunet's shoulder, startling him. "You and I," the Swiss began slowly, emeralds intent on holding amethysts. "Are we . . . good?"
The Austrian was in no way prepared for such an onslaught this quickly. God, he could barely step forward to say hello! And now this—he could no longer hold his coffee and had to quickly set the mug down before it shook out of his fingers.
The brunet cleared his throat and fiddled with the abandoned spatula. "What do you mean?"
"Roderich."
"It's too early for such discussions," he said, voice pitched slightly higher. "Don't you think?"
The hand on his shoulder gripped him tight and Switzerland had him meeting that stern green gaze despite his attempts not to. "Hi. Hallo. Good morning, good afternoon. Welcome to the conversation, Rod, I'd like an answer."
Austria wanted to be distracted by the way the sunlight was dappling little patches on the Swiss' pale yellow sweatshirt so badly. But he could never look away from emerald irises when they staked their claim so thoroughly. Not really. Especially not when he calls my name.
The chestnut-haired man cleared his throat once more. "Ah, ja? I mean, are we?"
"I want to be," Switzerland said, softening with a sigh. "I really, really don't want to keep tiptoeing around you. It's exhausting."
"Don't." Austria straightened and swiftly clasped the other's hand in his. "I don't want you to, either. I enjoy having you here, above all else, so." He ignored his racing heartbeat, already having vowed to be open with the Swiss now that his aforementioned dirty laundry was out for him to see. "Don't tiptoe."
"Good." The Swiss opened his mouth, then closed it. He nodded and pulled his hand back to point at him in cautious affirmation. "Good?"
"Good."
"Here, then. The dumplings are in your care."
After the air had cleared of the invisible miasma between them and made way for the mouthwatering scent of simmering onions once again, the two men worked easily together as they wrapped up lunch. The dumplings were placed in the boiling water, the spaetzle in the oven, and all they had left to do was set the table.
As the Austrian pulled down two extra plates Switzerland caught his arm. "We already have enough plates."
Austria continued to pull the plates down with the new weight on his arm. "I forgot to tell you last night. Gretta and Lettie are here to stay for a few days. I was fetching them from the train station earlier, if you were curious about where I was."
"Oh." Switzerland pulled back in surprise. "I figured you went somewhere, and maybe that was why Ludwig was in such a huff. Why are they here?"
The gentleman filled his beloved in as they moved the dishes to the dining room. A warranted, domestic moment. Talk of Gretta's husband being in quarantine made the room feel dimmer despite the sunlight glowing through the sliding glass door.
They were quiet for a few moments.
Switzerland followed him around the table as he set the plates, placing down the napkins and silverware as they went. As Austria laid the last plate the man leaned close, their shoulders pressing together. He cursed himself as he flinched at the simple gesture. The backs of their hands brushed, the warm touch sending a tingle up the aristocrat's arm, and he imagined another time where he could grab his companion's hand freely, tightly. Lovingly.
The moment fingers actually slipped between his own had him ascending.
A violet gaze snapped to meet green, lips trembling. Switzerland gave his hand a squeeze and turned to face him. "Rod."
Austria damned the lump in his throat. He was sure it was his heart.
The Swiss sighed once more, and he didn't think he could ever get used to seeing the blond this serious, this gentle. The fingers around his own tugged as Switzerland murmured, "Don't tiptoe."
Got it.
Austria ducked his head, the gasp of surprise from the man a delight to experience.
Ice overtook his spine as footsteps approached from behind them, freezing him on the spot. The two parted instantly; a habitual, panicked motion, both clearing their throats. Austria felt his cheeks burn with shame.
Switzerland peeked around him and greeted the newcomers. "Hallo, Frau Gretta, Lettie. Lilli."
A chorus of replies greeted him back and the Austrian spent a few moments straightening a placemat as he composed himself. The Swiss walked passed him towards the kitchen as he spoke. "A few more minutes and we can eat. I'll go check the oven."
Austria turned to face the feminine trio only to be met with three pairs of perceptive eyes.
God, give me bravery.
...xXx…
Hot food was dished out, sweet lemonade poured, and the five of them settled around the dining table. Germany hadn't returned yet, so they made sure to save him a plate.
It had been awhile since the three countries had spent a good amount of time around people who had no idea of their true identities—Gretta knew, but her daughter didn't, and most of their daily lives were spent among government officials—so the trio were on their best behavior.
Lunch went by calmly. They ate and talked about inane topics, mostly answering Lettie's questions about the palace. Why were there so many rooms? What was that painting? How could he afford taxes on such a place? The essential questions any young adult would ask in quick succession.
Austria did his best to answer them all between slow bites of spaetzle.
"It is still rather small for a palace," he reiterated once again. Switzerland rolled his eyes beside him. "But it was made with an abundance of rooms as such for guests and servants to have enough space to stay in alongside the family. Entertaining rooms, bedrooms, larders; all that was necessary to be presentable through one's fellow nobility and dignitaries."
"Was your family, like, really high status, then?" Lettie inquired further.
Austria smirked. "Average aristocracy at best."
The painting she asked after was one that was showcased in the room she'd been given. An oil portrait of a beautiful young lady in a vibrant frock, adorned with jewels and scarves of every hue, beaming in triumph. "That's none other than The Empress Maria Theresia, of her inauguration day as Archduchess and Queen." He smiled at the memory, a bit sheepish under Lettie's confused stare. "It's a piece of history, and a brilliant work of art that I was lucky enough to inherit."
As for the question about taxes, he replied quite succinctly. "Old money."
Austria ignored the two blondes as they covered their mouths.
Lettie accepted his answers in stride, and turned to her mother to feign whisper, "You sure he's not a vampire?"
Gretta huffed and raised an eyebrow at the gentleman. "Pretty sure."
Liechtenstein couldn't help her giggle at that, and even Austria was surprised into a small chuckle. "I'll admit, I haven't heard that one before."
"Really?" Switzerland murmured. "You fit the stereotype."
The Austrian pouted. "I quite enjoy garlic, thank you." The blond man bit back a smile.
"So how do you two know each other, then?" Lettie asked, pointing between him and the Swiss.
"Childhood friends," Austria said.
"We're coworkers," Switzerland said.
They glanced at each other. The brunet felt his throat tighten and his stomach roil.
The Swiss looked back to their guest and elaborated for them both. "It's a little complicated. We grew up together for the most part, in Kyburg, but he ended up moving back to Vienna and we went to different universities," he trailed off, looking to the Austrian for agreement, which he gave. "Then we lost touch. We didn't reconnect until years later through our work, and now here we are."
"Oh." Lettie glanced between them, eyebrows raised. "Which schools did you go to?"
He allowed the Swiss to continue, even though he was telling far too many truths. Their cover lives were always decided decades in advance, so there was no worry about being found out by those who weren't familiar with their true natures.
Switzerland took a sip of lemonade, disguising his silence as inner contemplation. "After the military, I went to HSLU for a Banking degree, and then I switched to Bern for Political Science and Economics. I dabbled in a few other things, but that's it, really."
Lettie nodded along with him. "I forgot that Switzerland does that, too. Was it hard?"
"Occasionally." Said nation gestured towards his neighbor, the brunet buzzing in his seat at the attention. "That's part of the reason why we lost touch." Emerald eyes stared into amethyst. "I conscripted early."
"You did," Austria murmured, and he can feel himself softening at the touch of truth in their words. "And so did I, once I returned home."
"It's funny," Lettie said, "I can't really picture you in the military, Roddy."
"A shame. I look rather dashing in my dress uniform."
"But then you went into music," Switzerland interjected. "To no one's surprise."
"MDW," Austria clarified for the young lady, touching his fork to his lips. "Triple major."
"Triple?!" Lettie balked. Even Switzerland gave him a look.
Technically an everything major, he tried to telepathically convey to the Swiss, who only frowned at his attempt. He ran down a list of the arts and picked his favorites. "Keyboard, Composition and Music Theory, and Conducting."
Switzerland sat back in his seat, eyeing his lie-not-lie intensely.
Gretta tapped her fork on her daughter's plate. "Why do you think he's always visiting for concerts, Tealeaf? He doesn't just attend them."
"I don't know!" Lettie waved her hands. "I thought he was just rich and liked classical stuff."
"You're not wrong," Liechtenstein chimed in, smiling sweetly at Austria's tiny objection. "But he does play quite beautifully." She perked up in his chair, jade eyes glittering. "If you're feeling well later, maybe you could play for us?"
Austria hesitated, then nodded, twining his fingers in his lap. "Of course." He had been aching particularly in his fingers and soul yesterday, for various reasons. This would help with one of them. Both Gretta and Switzerland spoke up with the same sentiment that he shouldn't force himself to play, and he waved their concerns away. "I'd be happy to. Any requests?"
While the others threw out ideas of songs for the musician to play, Switzerland took notice of the Austrian's posture, and his plate. It had hardly been filled and barely touched. He could recall seeing the brunet eat—he had, right? It wasn't like he'd taken his eyes off the man much throughout their meal. Austria held himself proper, showcasing perfect etiquette as always. His hands were in his lap, and the Swiss could feel the jittery bounce in the leg adjacent to his own.
He certainly did not look at the Austrian as he settled his foot over the other's own, stilling whatever nervous energy was bounding through him in an instant. Switzerland instead finished off his plate, thoroughly ignoring the heat from the man's sock covered foot seeping into his bare one.
However, he clearly saw in his peripheral vision the dark-haired man shudder, and he felt it through his toes.
Soon, everyone else had finished their lunch apart from Roderich. Liechtenstein piped up offering to continue her little tour, as they'd only walked the upstairs portion of the palace, and Lettie eagerly agreed. Gretta politely passed and apologized to her host, saying she was going to take a small nap, and everyone assured her that was fine. The woman did look pretty exhausted, and there were no plans for the rest of the day, so Austria quickly shooed her off to get some rest.
"Are you not hungry?" Liechtenstein asked the Austrian gentleman after Gretta departed.
Austria glanced at his nearly full plate and waved his hand casually. "I don't have much of an appetite at the moment."
The Swiss stopped his sister from gathering plates. "I've got it, Lil', don't worry."
"Are you sure?" She tilted her head, hair bobbing to the side. "You made lunch."
"I'm probably going to have a bit more, so go on. You can help me clean up dinner later," he compromised, and the young lady assented. Her and Lettie both set off down the hall, light chatter echoing after them.
The two men were left alone together.
The Swiss immediately rounded on his companion. "Why aren't you eating?"
Austria had pulled away from him under the table and stood, picking up his plate. "Help me gather up everything," he said instead of answering him. "Unless you're going to have seconds." His soft, firm tone left no room for argument.
Switzerland frowned, even as he followed the other's initiative. "I said that on your behalf."
There was a pause in the conversation as the blond moved all the empty dishes into the sink as the Austrian set the food dishes out on the counter. After everything had been moved to the kitchen, Austria shut the sliding glass door separating the kitchen and dining rooms.
Maybe he wants to talk, the Swiss wondered. Anxiety nibbled at him, teething at his foot. Did I overstep?
Switzerland was surprised when the brunet laid his hand overtop his own, stopping him from starting to put away the leftovers. When he looked up the aristocrat had a tired, sheepish expression, lifting up his unfinished plate.
"I didn't want to eat in front of the others," he murmured, ears slightly pink.
"Oh."
Austria proceeded to pile more noodles and dumplings onto his plate. He then sat in his usual seat at the counter and dug in heartily.
Switzerland sighed with relief, nearly smiling. He set about to clean the other dishes, leaving the serving platters untouched so the man could grab seconds and thirds, if he chose. Which he did. The blond was simply glad to see that the other did, indeed, have an appetite. It had worried him throughout lunch. Now he realized that old habits truly died hard with his friend—he didn't want to appear overzealous in front of guests. Decorum and dignity above all.
He must be really hungry, he thought. I wonder if he ate much yesterday. Switzerland felt a sting of guilt. I hope he did.
The Swiss glanced over his shoulder to ask him as much and caught the man staring at him. "What is it? Do you want more? There's a bit left on the stove."
Austria shook his head. He pointed at him with his fork. "How's your shoulder?"
Switzerland blinked. "Really." He couldn't help his snort as he turned back to scrubbing the glass in his hand. That's what he asks.
"Really?" The man sounded timid.
"It's fine," he said. And it was. The dull burning in the muscle wasn't a concern of his at all, and he nearly laughed at the Austrian's priorities.
"Are you sure?" Suddenly, that gentle voice was right next to his ear and the blond had to keep himself from dropping a knife. A warm hand laid lightly over his left shoulder blade, where the bandage was. "You're favoring your arm. What happened?"
Right. They hadn't had a chance to fully catch up. "It was from lifting the tree. It doesn't hurt." And it didn't, not really. Not anything to get upset over. He could feel the distaste rolling off the Austrian all the same.
A grey-sleeved arm reached around him to set his dish into the sink. Switzerland was just allowing his heart to beat its own drum at the warmth of the other's proximity when Austria stepped up beside him. The dapper man rolled up his sleeves and began to dry what he cleaned.
Together they worked in harmony.
"Would you like some painkillers?" the Austrian asked after a few peaceful moments. "I must admit, the one's my doctor gave me work decently for an ache."
Switzerland snorted again. "I'm not going to take your medication."
"You know they won't cure me," Austria said, gesturing with the towel at himself, "They're just to help ease the passing."
"You—!" Switzerland stopped and stared at him, appalled. Dark violet eyes avoided him suddenly. "Why would you say such a thing?"
"It's the truth," The Austrian defended meekly.
"It is not."
"Well, they also help with nausea."
Switzerland set a plate down with a sharp clang! His good mood was fouled. He had to keep himself from clenching his jaw too tight.
Silence reigned over the kitchen.
Austria bumped his shoulder against his, speaking up again, softly, carefully, "I will pass, Vash."
He inhaled deeply, setting the last of the silverware in the other half of the sink. He needed to steal back the drum from his heart before it broke through the skin. He swallowed the thickness in his throat, keeping his eyes downcast as he asked, "What makes you say that?"
"A feeling." Austria paused in wiping down a fork, and the Swiss could feel him staring. "It's been some time, but I recognize the sensation." Switzerland swallowed again. "I want you to be aware," he whispered now. "For when it happens."
Switzerland understood.
Natural entities such as them had a strange relationship with death. They were both hardier than normal humans, and yet their very pulse relied on those same humans. They could survive grievous wounds to their personal bodies, seemingly perish, and then rise up once again after some time recovering.
The Swiss thought the term vampire rather fitting sometimes.
Then they could be feeling vitalized one day, and the next a fickle number changes and their economy tanks, and so does their health, usually resulting in an extended illness similar to that of a cold or flu. Normal illnesses had no effect on them unless a large portion of their civilians contracted it all at once.
And a plague was one of the more painful ways to suffer. For a nation could neither heal themselves nor fall easy victim. It was a lengthy, agonizing process. A lonely one.
Most who fell to an early death knew it would claim them. Almost like an odd sixth-sense. Ancient Rome felt it after his last duel with Germania. The Holy Roman Empire felt it before France dealt his fatal blow, a silver blade straight through the heart. Most entities alive today had felt oncoming deaths days, even months, in advance, and counted themselves lucky to wake again afterwards. Switzerland and Austria included.
So when the man beside him told him that he was receiving that feeling, the Swiss knew he wasn't lying. It wasn't something any of them ever had the heart to lie about.
Switzerland reached over and grabbed for the Austrian, soaking his hand with soapy water as he threaded their fingers together. He leaned his head against the other's shoulder.
"Hey."
Austria's hand cautiously tightened over his own, his voice barely audible. "Yes?"
"I'll stay with you," the Swiss promised, pressing ever closer. "I'll stay and see you through it, Roderich. I'll be here when you wake."
...xXx...
Guten Morgen - Good morning
Guten Tag - Good day/afternoon
Nein! - No!
Ja, ja - Yes, yes
Danke euch beiden - Thank you both
Schweiz - Switzerland
Hallo, hallo! - Hello, hello!
Frau - Missus (addressing an older or married woman)
Kyburg - A Swiss county near Zurich (also the setting for my fic "The Faith of a Child")
HSLU and Bern - Referring to the Lucerne University of Applied Sciences and Arts, and the University of Bern
MDW - The University of Music and Performing Arts in Vienna
I must admit, I feel a little awkward posting now of all times, considering my whole plot...ya know. Planning this story many years ago, never did I think the world would actually be experiencing a pandemic. I hope you all will bear with me as more of the mystery is unraveled here. Please, please stay safe, everyone!
(Also a special shoutout to all you lovelies who sent me encouraging messages about my work during my hiatus. Every word means so much to me and helps to keep me going when I feel unworthy of any of the attention to my work. Thank you.)