A/N: Sorry that this took forever. I've been extremely busy with work and had the worst writers block ever. I had to fight to wrap this thing up. Please enjoy the last chapter!
Also, you have to be a little familiar with Austria's history to understand some parts of the chapter. There are historical notes at the end of the chapter :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
Twisted Angels:
Austria
Humility
"Do you do anything except play the piano? I swear, every time I come over you're slobbering all over that thing…" Prussia commented loudly from his seat on the couch.
Austria didn't quite understand how he kept sneaking in. Hungary had changed the locks 4 times now. He didn't bother asking because Prussia would only attribute it to his "awesomeness". Austria wouldn't mind placing a bet that there was a window somewhere in the attic that was broken.
There were always a number of options to choose from when it came to dealing with his annoying neighbor. Most of the time, Austria simply ignored him, tuning out the shrill voice in his ear and focusing instead on the notes that became chords that became perfectly constructed concertos.
On good days, Prussia would wander off to spend his endless amounts of time pestering his brother to authorize the formation of a new Prussian state or engaging in lewd behavior with whoever he was currently involved with.
The final option was Hungary. However, due to the destruction that usually accompanied her disposal of Prussia, Austria had labeled her "Emergency Plan D"—when desperate times called for desperate measures.
Austria did not doubt that Hungary would rush to his aide, battle equipped with her deadly frying pan, if he called her every time Prussia decided to focus his sights on him.
But he didn't.
Because it was not his place. So he let Prussia stay.
He had no right to tell him to go.
"I'll play you a story." Austria said, surprising himself and Prussia, who—after barely a moment's hesitation—eagerly slid onto the bench, very pleased with himself that Austria had, for once, acknowledged his presence.
"Stupid aristocrat." He sneered as he ran a filthy hand over the row of keys, the jumbled clash of sound causing Austria to wince.
"You can't play a story."
"And you don't understand the complexities of music and the multiple outlets of expression it has." Austria said as he batted Prussia's fingers away.
"It still doesn't make sense."
"Neither does your continued existence. Now listen."
The first note rang out clear and true as Austria's fingers descended onto the keys. Even in his anger at the low blow comment and his own disbelief in the abilities of music, Prussia couldn't miss the distinct difference in the formation of the sound as it echoed throughout the room, leaving a single line hanging in the air as it began to fade.
There once was man…
Austria never spoke, his face was a mask of concentration, his lips sealed.
Who thought himself higher than a king…
Notes became sentences as they played out the story that formed itself by the unspeakable force that could only be described as Austria's will in Prussia's mind.
And so he conquered and grew strong…
The music grew louder and more powerful, sketching out the images of triumphant battles with harsh accents signifying the furious clash of swords. Then there was victory and celebration, played with a light, cheerful tune that illustrated dancing feet and rustling skirts twirled by a late summer breeze.
Until time passed and his power was lost and his enemies gathered at his doorstep…
Fun and frivolous became somber and slow, each heavy thunk of the keys a broken heart, a broken blade, and a broken might. It almost seemed to Prussia that the music was speaking directly to him as it grew darker, the melancholy melody broken only briefly by a fledgling of hope.
And it was only with her aide that he survived the day…
Rhythm and style suddenly changed. Classical became modern and the story shifted through time, the music playing every decade, every century.
And when all was done and the dead were buried, a new age began and twice the man released evil into the world.
The first came after a shot heard around the world…
Prussia jerked slightly, the sudden crash of the notes a perfect imitation of a bullet being released into the world, utter destruction being its only intended target.
The second, with the birth of a monster…
A sickening mixture of hate and self-loathing dripped off the keys as Austria, his fingers white as bone, played the history of a man who had lost his self worth.
When he saw what he had done, the man went into his house and shut the door…
The end was no conclusion as the final note hung in the air long after Austria's fingers had left the piano.
And he never came out.
Silence hung heavily in the room, almost deafening until Prussia stood up from his seat on the bench and walked towards the archway that would lead to the hallway that would lead to the door to the outside. He paused, one hand clutching the wooden walls, the feeling of something solid soothing to his addled mind.
"It wasn't your fault." Prussia said softly. He didn't wait for an answer, but heard it nonetheless as he made his way out.
The last notes of the piece as it told of an end that haunted him even after he shut the door behind him.
Historical Notes
- The "shot heard around the world" refers to the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand who was the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne. It was his death that propelled Austria and its allies to declare war and was technically what started WWI (it was at least a short term cause)
-The "birth of a monster" should be pretty obvious, but for those that don't know, Hitler was Austrian, not German.
I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed this story and Seven Sinners. It was a great run! THANK YOU!
-with love
dancer