So… I'll try and make this all right. Let me warn you, though- I'm totally inexperienced in writing that kind of stuff. Platonic love, crush- all right. Requited? I don't have a clue. So, bear with me, ok? And I'd like to thank Yana for the idea; if it were me, I think I would've prolonged this longer.
Disclaimer: Waiter! The usual, please!

11- Budapest- January-February

She was more than glad to finally having a little time for herself- her bosses were busy with the crisis and various things they did without her help for a change. So, she wrote to England who said he'd come over for a change (she couldn't always go to London), having a bit of time as well.
Hungary waited for him at the airport, and finally, he indeed appeared with his luggage. They hugged; relishing the rare chance of the meeting their lifestyle as nations provided, then went outside and got in Hungary's car.
'Should we drop your luggage at my place right now or…'
'Now is fine.' he answered, a trifle too quickly, as if he was uncomfortable or slightly embarrassed. Elizaveta turned the ignition key, and off they went. Fortunately, the road was more or less clear, and they didn't meet the usual traffic jam- they reached their destination quickly. It only occurred to her now, that just as she had seen his house after the concert for the first time, she had never invited anyone to hers except England, and he has never been here before, either.
'Well… it isn't too big, so don't expect much…' she murmured, getting the feeling that she shouldn't have convinced him to stay over at her house, but quickly pushing it away: it wasn't a professional, but a private visit, and making private guests go to a hotel was certainly unforgivable for a host.
He shook his head, with a bit of a blush (or was it only because of the winter?), saying: 'N-no, it's all right…' She shot her a grateful smile then they went in to the warm and comfy house. England stayed in the small hall, looking around in interest, while Hungary took his luggage to an empty bedroom. When she returned, she found him already in the sitting room, scanning a bookshelf.
'Found anything interesting?' she asked with a smile.
'Well, I guess… I came across some familiar names, but the titles are of course in Hungarian.' he turned towards her, as the hostess joined him, turning toward the books as well with a scrutinizing look on her face.
'Well… we have… Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Gulliver, some Shakespeare, Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Crime and Punishment, The Master and Margarita, Lord of the Rings, Tino's Kalevala, the standard Harry Potter, and of course quite a lot from my Literature. You pick.'
'What do you mean, I pick? I couldn't read them if I…'
'I'll translate.' He looked surprised but before he could answer, both of their stomachs began to grumble. She chuckled at that.
'But only after we've eaten. You can call yourself lucky I have a meal done in the fridge, I only have to warm it up.' Elizaveta beckoned him to follow her into the kitchen, then to sit down at the table, while she set the table and put some pots with cold dishes in them for him to chose.
'That one is stew, that is fish soup, this is the noodles (in case you pick the stew, but I can always put jam, walnut or scrambled eggs on it), and some potatoes… you can have them with or without stew.'
'Potatoes? But… Those are neither mashed, nor cooked in whole, nor as chips…' He blinked, perplexed.
'Oh, here we usually put some paprika and sour cream mixed with flour into it. It kind of has a sauce like this, you see.' she explained.
'Some potatoes, then, please, with only a bit of stew.'
'Why? Are you afraid of it?' she teased, filling his plate.
'Actually, I'm kind of cautious. By the color of it, you must've put loads of your pepper into it.'
'Oh, come on, it's not like Mexico's chili…' she tried to persuade him.
'It sure looks like the same reddish-brown for me…'
'Fine, I won't force it then.' she sat back, picking the noodles and packing it with a good helping of stew. She put both plates into the microwave oven, and went to cut a slice of bread.
'That's for you, it goes with the potato.' She felt the need to clear this, seeing his surprised face. A couple of minutes later they began to eat.
'How do you like it?' She asked between a gulp and another mouthful of the noodles.
'Well… the sour cream and the potatoes are good, and the stew isn't too spicy to be bearable, either.' he said, although she admitted that he ate the bread at quite a speed… 'You're a good cook…'
Arthur added, his face slightly resembling her favorite spice. She smiled.
'Thanks…'
The rest of the meal had passed silently. They went back to the sitting room and after that, she asked him if he fancied a drink- only one.
'What do you have?'
'Er… beer (mostly Ludwig's kind of Lager), wine, brandy, vodka, and some of my pálinka.' she reported, checking the fridge.
'Brandy and a shot of pálinka, then.'
'No. Those are better not to be mixed, believe me. You have to settle for one.'
'Brandy.'
'All right.' She poured one for herself as well, and clinked her glass to his.
'Cheers.' They said simultaneously, before taking a sip.
The brandy felt good, the burning of her throat vanished quickly, as she expected. She had dealt with stronger and more alcohol, and could handle it well- not good enough to compete with Russia (oh, not even halfway there), Ludwig, Gilbert or Denmark, but still.

She was feeling slightly more light-headed, though, as she emptied her glass, and by the heat in her face, was already blushing, although it wasn't much of a problem, for so was England. She excused herself before any of them would resort to get rid of the rest of the alcohol, and searched for some biscuits to serve; she didn't want to get drunk (or even tipsy, for that matter), and food always helped that, but she just didn't find any. She forgot the most crucial point… maybe some music would do the trick.
Elizaveta thus went back to the living-room, and asked her guest if he wanted some music.
'W-well… I never heard your voice in live-performance… so… if you have a karaoke CD or something…'
Now that was tricky… the instrumentals she had were mostly of musicals…
'Well… I only have instrumentals from musicals, if that's fine with you…' she admitted.
'It's okay for me, you can pick one that you don't have the instrumental version of, if you want to.'
Elizaveta nodded in accepting, then choose a CD and put it into the recorder, picking a song. After a short intro, she began to sing.
'I'm tugging at my hair/I'm pulling at my clothes/I'm trying to keep my cool/I know it shows.'
'I'm staring at my shoes/my cheeks are turning red/I'm searching for the words/Inside my head.' Now that was unexpected… England spontaneously stood up, and joined in. They sang the chorus together: 'Cos' I'm feeling nervous/trying to be so perfect/Cos I know you're worth it, worth it, yeah…/If I could say what I want to say/I'd say I want to blow you away/Be with you every night…/Am I squeezing you too tight?/If I could say what I want to see/I want to see you go down on one knee/Marry me today/Yes, I'm wishing my life away…/With these things I'll never say.'

After the song was over, they sat down on the couch, and Hungary didn't know why she felt so insecure and why the world seemed to be spinning, although very-very slowly. Was it because of the one single glass of brandy, the mild exhaustion, or the song- if not the mere fact that he decided to join in and they actually sang together, thus making her secret dream (ever since she heard him on the concert) come true? It didn't quite matter or at least it didn't seem to at all, as she leaned onto him. What she sang about was true- she had encountered and could handle friendship, alliance, enmity, wars, but actual love was different. Despite Sadiq having the looks and character he had, Gilbert in their teens getting all nervous around her, and her marriage to Austria, she considered herself to be really inexperienced at that field. She was too preoccupied with hating Turkey while he was at her place (and didn't have much time later, either), being annoyed with Gilbert (she hoped their friendship wouldn't suffer from her being a woman, but he kept trying to treat her differently), and taking care of her part of the empire while trying to stay away from Austria's rules and country. Well, she had to admit, they were really great artists, and so was Roderich himself, she loved the music, but he, being the nobleman he was, just couldn't stop treating her like a porcelain doll, something to be kept locked away for its own good. And she hated this just as much as Sissy did later.
Arthur being uncertain as well surprised her, though. Somehow… she learned a lot from him, and finding out he lacked knowledge seemed weird, but in the… good kind of way. For her, it meant that they would have to help each other, and even though the fact they were in love with each other already kind of proved that, it made her think or feel as if they were equal. It was selfish, perhaps, thinking about that, but she couldn't help it. She had been an underling or simply an underdog for centuries, so of course she liked the change.

She felt one his arms moving, being wrapped around her, a bit hesitant at first, but as she didn't flinch, it grew more secure, involving her in a warm, soft half-embrace. It felt like a cozy family afternoon with a huge bowl of popcorn and a great stack of DVD's, the fire burning in the fireplace. The kind of time that seemed to last forever while you were living it, but was too precious and fragile to linger here for long, as you were forced to admit in yourself later- and if someone, they, nations knew all too well that everything is for them (people and nations equally) to see and not to keep, that all they experienced was a mere intermezzo in their almost constantly changing lives, rushing past them like a bus on the street.
The last part of the realization didn't hit her, though: she was lost in that tranquil, lukewarm bubble of the atmosphere.
'Ela…'
His voice was a bit insecure, hesitating, as if he was pondering a great question and didn't know how to ask it, if he even should. She looked at him in surprise, a knot of anticipation appearing in her stomach. W-wait, what did he call her?
'How did you come up with the name?' she asked, frowning slightly, though her face told of more curiosity than annoyance. His face got slightly redder, but he answered nonetheless.
'Well… it kind of… came. And it proved to be especially stubborn after "Umbrella".'
'Oh… I see.' She nearly slapped herself for saying something this lame, but what was there to say for that? 'I like it.' she added after all, earning a smile from him. Should she return to what he tried to begin, or is it better left unsaid and simply felt?
'So… er… I have a question to ask…' he began again. A part of Elizaveta wanted him to just spill it out before the suspense became too big for her, but a part of her wanted it to remain a secret. She nodded nonetheless, indicating that she listened carefully.
'You know… I was thinking… and… we both kind of have something to brush up on getting to know each other, don't we? I mean, there are nations who know us better…'
'Well… we do, I think. You have your brothers, France, America, the whole Commonwealth…'
'And you Poland, Prussia, Austria and the other neighbors, Turkey, Tino, even Russia…'
'So… you're implying we should make a kind of "chat of introduction"?' she got to the point. She didn't make any comments about him including Russia, with whom she thought they didn't know each other better than she and Arthur did- she thought she saw a kind of grimace on his face when she mentioned his brothers. She could understand it, although she didn't have any relatives who were this close, since after the communist party took over in 1947, Ivan was often referred to as "big brother" by her bosses, making her an unwilling "sort-of-adoptive-sister". So when she read Orwell's book 1984, she felt slightly unnerved by the fact that this term came up so often…
'Er… yes, kind of. You can begin… unless you have another idea…'
'I do. Heads or tails?' she asked, already holding a coin in her hand.
'Heads.'

She threw it up, caught it, and took a look.
'It's tails. I begin.'
And that she did. For about half an hour, she talked about anything that came to her mind: her flowers, literature, music, some of her history (only some of that; he could always look up things of that nature if he wanted to), movies, sports… She admitted she loved water polo and nearly all the equestrian sports.
'You remember the Melbourne Olympics, back in '56?'
'The one you and Poland weren't there on in person, only the teams? Yeah, I do… I could never forget that water polo match with Russia…'
'Let me guess, he sat right there, didn't he…?' She hissed between gritted teeth. She had to do her best and contain her anger, which was rising by the moment. She was in Budapest at the time of the match, half in house arrest, half recovering, but she followed it all in radio. If she wasn't that worn-out, she would've danced and jumped up and down, right until the last two minutes, when one of her players got a punch to make him bleed quite hard. Well, punches weren't uncommon in water polo, and especially this match was ferocious right from the beginning, with everything imaginable, but that was way over the top- the ball wasn't even close! No matter how nasty the game had been, it was unprecedented. The referee's called the match, and Ivan's team, so she heard (and she guessed Ivan himself as well) had to be ushered towards their locker rooms by the police.
'Yes, he did… he didn't mind the mood of the audience much, though… at least so it seemed.'
'Why should he have? He was the Soviet Union himself…' she growled. This match always made her angry somehow, even if she won 4-0. The Olympic teams began to prepare before anything began, and left while she was organizing, supporting her people, talked frequently with Imre Nagy, and listened to the radio. Looking back at it now, it was hopeless from the beginning: Ivan had troops within her country and more at home, but she just had to do something- she couldn't endure it any more.
'Well, he was, but still… He should've given thought to it at least…'
'It didn't matter… and neither does it now. Let's… leave this topic, all right?' She sighed. She really didn't want memories to get to her, and that time was hardly one she would like to live through again. Feeling the guilt and despair of each of the immigrants and those that stayed behind, the death and the torture of those the Russians caught… anything but that. It was because of this that she was willing to settle for being "the merriest barrack in the socialist camp" instead of neutrality, although before the revolution fell, she and her people declared she didn't consider the Warsaw Pact to have effects on her anymore, which (since she didn't have time to apply for NATO or UN membership) meant she was on nobody's side just like Yugoslavia, theoretically speaking, at least until the whole revolt was crushed.
'Sorry…' she heard. Arthur did look like he really meant it, and Elizaveta couldn't help but smile.
'No need to be. Your turn.'

Another about half an hour went by as he was speaking. It turned out he had always seen fairies (they were absent now because he asked them to stay at home and made extra sure they couldn't get into his luggage) and other magical creatures- in fact those were the first things he remembers, and that he did give some ideas to Rowling…
'What? You really did?'
'Of course I did! Where did you think the Statute of Secrecy and the underage magic-regulations came from? She asked me once about our bosses and I told her we sometimes have problems with filling them in. Not to mention unicorns and fairies. I gave her Norway's address and phone number so that she could get some info on trolls, though… and Scotland's, since she insisted that she talked to him, the school being in his part of the UK and all.' he added.
'That reminds me… What about dragons?'
'Dragons? Well… That was her job, mostly… I just told her about you lot and she invented them.'
'So you told her about me and she thought of a Hungarian Horntail…'
'N-no! I'm sure not! I mean, yeah, she might have, given that it's in the books… but… I don't think it was what I said…'
'Why, what did you say?' She asked, now more curious than hurt. He was caught by surprise; blinked a few times, and his face grew redder and redder, his eyes darting to various objects but never once looked at her.
'I… I… said that you were beautiful and your face always showed your emotions, and were glad to learn but had your opinion, but I didn't knew you well enough, so I sent her to Austria…'
She moaned.
'Now I understand. He always thought I was too fiery and un-ladylike for my own good…'
'D-did he, now…' he gulped.
'Yes. It was a real relief, having my namesake Sissi around, at least I could talk to her. She hated the court, wanted to do and know more, you see… And I bet Franz Joseph and Roderich drank together as well, cursing us women.'
He chuckled at that. 'Why, I can see them at a bar, lifting their glasses in sync…'
She laughed as well- her imagination was just too vivid. The dark haired, bespectacled musician and the young, handsome emperor…
And so the topic was changed to bosses and literates. He admitted he met a few of the latter group a couple of times, and waited if they realized who he was.
'Will did, somehow. So did Keats and the Shelley couple, along with the Bronte sisters, but I didn't meet Byron, he was always on the move. Dickens… took his time; it was really crowded where we met. Tolkien knew it almost instantly, and I had to admit I nearly forgot Old English… Rowling found out after about an hour. And I don't have to add Wilde to the list of those who knew, do I?'
'Wasn't he Irish?'
'He was, but came to study at Oxford and lived for a while in London, so we met.'
She met only few of them face to face, but went often to places where she knew they gathered around. Even those who she met closely didn't usually have a clue about her being their country or nation- whichever way you prefer.
'Why didn't you tell them?'
'I don't think they would've believed me, plus it's not an easy topic to talk about. You had your problems with bosses not getting it as well, didn't you?'
'Oh yes I did. Cromwell was hard to convince, and William of Orange… plus generally every first monarch of a new dynasty, more or less. The rest grew up practically with me in the castle. A Prime Minister is a different case, though… Let's just say one of them actually wanted to throw me out of the window.'
'So that bit is true?'
'Sadly, it is. What about you?'
'Well… While I was a kingdom, it was similar with you, though the first Habsburg didn't require any explanations… he knew Roderich well already before. After that came first a democracy, then a socialist regime, and a kingdom again…
'W-wait, I thought you dethroned the Habsburgs and didn't elect another one…'
'I didn't have one. I had a governor or regent, Horthy. A vice-admiral, you see, and he didn't have a single ship, let alone a fleet at that time.'
'But you…'
'I didn't have a sea by then, bingo. It was an insanely absurd time… Remember when he dethroned the Habsburg house and sent Carl I or IV in exile? '
'Sure I do, it was on HMS Glowworm he left…'
'Horthy presented that bill to the country as the regent of the king, but the king didn't lay eyes upon it, let alone signing the paper… so if you want to be scrupulous, you could say it didn't ever take effect in theory.'
She felt herself going numb, so she stood up and stretched herself. In the meanwhile, she happened to look out of the window, and was perplexed by the fact that so much time had passed- they ate at about noon and now it seemed to be about three o'clock.
'It's this late already?' she exclaimed, causing him to look at his watch.
'What am I supposed to say to that?' he asked.
'Well certainly not "I'm getting late"' she chuckled. 'Want to watch something?'

AN

I know you must hate me for the cliffhanger, but I didn't want to delay it the end for too long. Plus I don't know what they should watch. An idea would be Monty Python's Holy Grail… They would have a great laugh, although I didn't see the film yet.

The song they sing is Things I'll Never Say by Avril Lavigne, from her first album (Let Go). 'I'm getting late' is supposed to hint to 'Alice in Wonderland'. Tino's Kalevala is an epos like Odyssey, but out of collected fragments, I understand, collected and published by Elias Lönnrot- Tolkien was a professor of Old English and came across Kalevala as well, and he loved it. The story of Kalevala revolves around a semi-god Väinämöinen, that's where Tino's family name comes from.

So, here's to the historical blabber…

Melbourne Bloodbath/Blood in the water-match: the semi-finals of the male water polo on the Melbourne Olympics were held on the 6th of December (my birthday O.O), when the Hungarian revolt was already crushed. The match is infamous for being extremely violent with kicks and punches and whatnot over and under the water (why, we wanted to punch back and they wanted to cast a final blow), yet the most shocking part was in the last minutes when a Russian punched a Hungarian over the eye, thus making the latter bleed, and yes, the police had to intervene because of the spectators, although their appearance seemed to be enough to calm the people down. Hungary in person wasn't there on the Olympics, first because she was fighting, and then because I imagine she had to recover, plus got house-arrest from Ivan. Poland stayed away out of solidarity- the Polish did support the revolution in various ways, mostly donating and sending blood and other first-aid supplies.

About the Red Army in Hungary: it was said that they were "temporarily stationed" here. From 1945 to 90. No comment. Oh, and that bit with "big brother": I don't know about the rest of Warsaw Pact, but in Hungary, the USSR was sometimes referred to as such. Kind of… creepy, after reading 1984… although they say Orwell took the idea from an advertisement for educational correspondence courses at a company "Bennett" during WWII or a recruit advertisement from WWI.

After the revolution, a mass immigration began; many didn't want to see the country under even tougher Soviet control or feared for their life (many were imprisoned and/or executed- there were 14-16 years old boys among the revolutionaries, and with some of them, the state simply waited until they were 18 and killed them…), although weirdly, the situation grew better with time; 9 years after the revolt and we were dubbed the "happiest/merriest barrack (in the Socialist camp)", with a better life-standard and a more western atmosphere than most of the Warsaw countries. It had a price, though: a rising national debt.

I couldn't resist putting Harry Potter in it… not with the most dangerous of dragons in our country! And yes, I think Roderich found Elizaveta a bit too un-girly and tried to make her otherwise, that's where it all went downhill.

Kingdom without a king: yes, it was the official form of government back then; the failure of the democracy in Hungary was too close and overshadowed by the short-lived "Soviet-Republic" or Tanácsköztársaság (it lasted for 133 days), so we returned to kingdom, but couldn't take a king, since the entente wouldn't have tolerated a Habsburg, so we chose the next best: a "temporary" regent. Nothing seems to last as long as "temporary" in Hungary… And yes, he was a vice-admiral, without a fleet, without a sea, and with territorial claims against countries we were later allied with… Kafka would be really glad; it's so absurd even he couldn't have written it better.

The Habsburgs were dethroned three times in Hungary: in 1707, in 1849, and in 1920 (for good). The last king and emperor, Charles (IV as Hungarian king, I as emperor) was sent to Madeira, on an English ship (HMS Glowworm).

So... read and review, please??? *tries puppy-eyes but kind of fails*