Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, not to me.

Chapter 2

''You're late.''

''And a very good morning to you too, Specs,'' Gilbert said, putting a cup of coffee in front of Roderich, who looked up, his irritated expression quickly changing into a surprised one. ''Brought you some coffee.''

''Oh,'' the Austrian stammered. ''T-thank you.'' He sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. ''Is that the reason why you're late?''

''Yep,'' Gilbert said, leaving out the fact that he overslept, got yelled at by his brother for it and failed to catch the bus, which caused him to take his bike to work instead. He sat down behind his desk, nipping at his own coffee.

''Well,'' Roderich said, ''I appreciate it, but please make sure that you're on time tomorrow.''

''Of course,'' Gilbert smirked, glad that he got off so easily: he was seldom on time. He twirled around in his office chair for a bit, waiting impatiently for Roderich to finish both his coffee and whatever paperwork he was doing. ''Almost done?''

''Not yet,'' the man mumbled, not even looking up from his work. ''Why don't you go ahead and check up on the development department? They made some changes to the MTTD last night, I believe. I'll catch up with you.''

''Fine,'' Gilbert sighed. He left the office and walked down the stairs towards the lower workfloor, where his colleagues were already bustling about. As soon as he entered the development section, he got spotted by Mathias, who waved enthusiastically and motioned for him to come over.

The long table in front of the man was scattered with small machines, metal parts from who-knows-what and at least a dozen different sketches of devices, equations scribbled hastily over them. The Dane himself was bouncing up and down like a madman – which, Gilbert had decided long ago, he was.

''Gil, my man!'' Mathias said enthusiastically. ''Come here, see what we did! We've been working on this all night!''

He led the Prussian to a room behind him. It was clean and white, just like the office Roderich and he worked in. Jumping from foot to foot, Mathias pointed to the – completely empty – room before them.

''Er…'' Gilbert began, wondering if Mathias had gone mad for real this time. ''What am I supposed to see here, exactly?''

''Just wait! In a moment–''

He got cut off when a man suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, looking quite disheveled and out of breath. His hair was sticking up in all directions, not much unlike Mathias' hairstyle. His clothes were ragged and even looked burned in some places. ''Mathias,'' he said monotonously, pointing his finger at the Dane. ''Next time you go and do the first test run yourself.''

He let his hand fall limply to his side and promptly sat down on the floor. Mathias rushed to him immediately and the two began speaking in hushed tones. Gilbert stood awkwardly in the door opening. ''Er… Guys? What happened? You okay?''

Mathias looked up with a surprised expression, as if he'd just remembered that Gilbert was still with them in the room. ''Oh! Yeah, of course,'' he said with a smile, a slight tremble in his voice. ''Lukas here is just a bit tired, is all. Right, Lukas?''

The man in question glared at Mathias for a moment and then focused on Gilbert. ''Are you traveling with the MTTD today?''

''That was the plan,'' Gilbert answered.

''Don't use this one,'' Lukas said, pointing to the device next to him on the ground.

Mathias took the device and walked towards the table, muttering under his breath. He threw the MTTD on the table between all the other devices and objects and began to frantically scribble on a piece of paper.

''What's wrong with it?'' Gilbert asked.

Mathias didn't seem to hear him and continued his muttering. ''Should've known… Boss always wants to have his way… Too dangerous…''

Gilbert decided that the best course of action at this point would be to silently disappear without meddling with the others' business.

On his way back to the office, he quite literally ran into Roderich, who just rounded the corner.

''Ah! I'm so sorry! I was about to…'' The Austrian trailed off when he saw who he'd just bumped into. ''Gilbert?''

Gilbert straightened himself and swallowed. ''Hi.''

Roderich frowned and adjusted his glasses. ''I thought you were– Never mind… Did you get an MTTD?''

''Oh, right… I don't think–''

''I'll go and get it myself,'' Roderich sighed, walking along. ''Wait for me in the office, please.''

Gilbert shrugged and did as he was told. Although he'd never openly admit it, he knew that Roderich could handle most situations.

The man proved him right by returning with an MTTD a few minutes later. ''Always a chaos downstairs…'' he mumbled, setting the right time on the device.

''So, where are we traveling today?'' Gilbert asked, curiously.

Roderich paused to glare at him. ''Do you ever read your mail, Gilbert? Today we'll be going to the Renaissance. We'll be focusing on the power of art and the power of the state and how this influences each other.''

''Finally some action, then? Alright, let's go,'' the Prussian said, watching over Roderich's shoulder as the man pressed the buttons. The next moment the office around them disappeared and they were standing on a square in Italy instead.

''Alright, let's get to business,'' Roderich began, walking towards a street. ''As you see, we're in Florence, the city where the family Medici lived. They ruled Florence throughout the Renaissance, so naturally, they had a major influence on it. Renaissance means 'rebirth', as you might– no, should know by now.''

''Is this the 15th century?''

''It is indeed. The Medici was a banking family, political dynasty and later royal house. They were very wealthy and therefore they could afford it to pay artists for commissions for major works of art, also called 'patronage'. It basically means that the family sponsored artists. They also supported scientific efforts like Gallileo's.''

They halted before a building. ''Palazzo Medici, right?'' Gilbert asked.

''Yes,'' Roderich said, turning around to look at the man. ''You know about it?''

''I think Feliciano sent me a photo of this building on a postcard once,'' Gilbert grinned. ''He told me something about the architecture. What was it again…''

''Maybe that–''

''No, no, wait! It's on the tip of my tongue,'' Gilbert cut him off. ''Er… I know that there's a courtyard with a chapel and a garden. The chapel's walls are decorated with fresco's from… Benozzo Gozzoli, I think. There's also statues and… stuff. Oh, and it was built around 1444.''

Roderich hummed in approval, a corner of his mouth tugging upwards. ''Well, you're right about that. The architect of this building was Michelozzo di Bartolommeo and he was asked to design the building by Cosimo de' Medici, who was head of the family at that time. The architecture you're talking about is the tripartite elevation. You see, the three floors all have different decoration. They represent rationality, order and classicism on human scale.''

Gilbert pouted. ''I knew that.''

''No, you didn't, but you made a great effort,'' Roderich said, not unkindly. ''Let's move on, shall we?''

Gilbert slouched behind Roderich as they walked towards their next destination. ''Do you know what Francesco Petrarca wrote about the Renaissance?'' the Prussian asked, hoping to impress the man with his knowledge.

''Yes, but please, do enlighten me,'' Roderich smirked, wiping the grin off of Gilbert's face.

He glared at him. ''No need to be that arrogant about it, Specs. Contrary to what you might think, I do know some historical stuff. Now, as I was saying, Petrarca was aware of the fact that the Dark Ages were ending and something new was coming. He said: 'When the darkness has been dispersed, out descendants can come again in the former pure radiance.' Meaning, he knew that a change was coming.''

''True. Do you also know what work illustrates this change the best?'' Roderich asked.

''Er… Giotto's 'Lamentation', maybe? Also called 'The Mourning of Christ'. That painting differs from other works from that time because the figures are clearly three-dimensional, have different faces and gestures and their clothes are much more realistic. It has aspects of both the Gothic and the Byzantine and Giotto uses foreshortening. Also, some figures have their backs towards the observer, creating the illusion of space.''

The Austrian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. ''Have you been brushing up on your history?''

Gilbert blushed and looked away. ''Maybe…''

''Who would have thought…'' Roderich mumbled, amused. ''Alright, do you know anything about the architecture around this time? I mean, we've been walking for a while now and you have to admit that the style is rather eye-catching.''

Gilbert thought for a moment. ''Except for a few names and buildings… I don't really know the details, to be honest. How about this guy… er, what's his name… Brunelesky?''

Roderich let out a chuckle. ''I think you mean Filippo Brunelleschi. What an awful pronunciation.''

''Thanks, Priss,'' Gilbert huffed, rolling his eyes.

Ignoring him, the Austrian continued: ''Brunelleschi is generally well known for developing a technique for linear perspective in art and for building the dome of the Florence Cathedral.'' He pointed to said cathedral that could be seen in the distance. ''He is seen as an artist still profoundly dependent on local forms of architecture and construction, but with a vision of art and science that was based on the humanistic concept of the ideal. Geometric proportions and symmetrical planning, mixed with classical detail was often found in his buildings, like his 'Ospedale degli Innocenti', or 'Foundling Hospital'.''

Gilbert snickered. ''And you said my pronunciation was off…''

Roderich couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. ''I'll have you know that my Italian is perfectly fine, thank you.''

''Whatever,'' Gilbert sighed, sauntering off.

''And where do you think you're going? Our next destination is Vatican City and I happen to have the MTTD right now,'' the Austrian said, motioning for Gilbert to come back. With a very dramatic sigh, just for good measure, the Prussian returned and waited, arms crossed.

''Now, don't pull that face on me,'' Roderich said, frowning. ''I know this isn't the most exiting job sometimes, but we just have to make the best of it.'' He fumbled with the MTTD for a moment. Then the scenery changed and they were in Rome.

''Fine, fine,'' Gilbert grumbled. ''So, Rome. Let me guess, Da Vinci, Rafael and Michelangelo?''

Roderich's jaw dropped. ''How did you know?''

Gilbert gave him a wide grin and started to walk away, shouting over his shoulder: ''I'm just that awesome!'' Little did Roderich know that Gilbert had been looking over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen of the MTTD, where the names were listed in plain sight.

Gilbert chuckled to himself.

They walked a little further, taking in their surroundings. The streets were as busy as they had been yesterday, or rather, as they had been centuries ago.

''Let's start with Da Vinci, then,'' Roderich said.

''Oh, but I know a lot about this guy,'' Gilbert said enthusiastically. ''He was considered 'Homo Universalis', or 'Universal Genius', as he had so many talents. This guy was so smart that he invented the parachute, helicopter and tank!''

''Whoa, hold on,'' Roderich interrupted, holding up a finger. ''He made sketches and had certain theories about those things, but he did not actually build them and his sketches differ a great deal from the inventions as we know them in modern times.''

''I know, but that doesn't mean they're not cool,'' Gilbert continued, unfazed. ''Besides, he wasn't only an inventor, but also a scientist and artist. Have you ever seen his sketches? I believe Luddy had a poster of the Vitruvian Man once. You know, the one with all the arms and legs in a circle?''

''Yes, that's a study of the proportions of the human body,'' Roderich said. ''But you're forgetting his paintings, like 'The Last Supper'. Painted in the 1490s, and special because it has great characterization and design.''

''That's the one you come up with? I mean, I know it's famous, but what about the 'Mona Lisa'?''

Roderich had to give him that one. ''Yes, the 'Mona Lisa' is probably the most famous painting in the world. Giorgio Vasari, who wrote 'Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects', said that the Mona Lisa was supposed to be as realistic as possible. He also said that Da Vinci was a genius, but that he could never finish a work once he'd started it.''

''Vasari?'' Gilbert asked. ''He was the one to write the first book on art history, right?''

''The ideological foundation of the genre, yes.''

''Can't impress me with your prissy words, Specs. What's next?''

Roderich squinted at the MTTD. ''Michelangelo. Da Vinci lived from 1452 to 1519 and Michelangelo from 1475 to 1564. Raphael comes after that, since he lived from 1483 to 1520.''

Gilbert could finally see where they were walking towards. ''The Sistine Chapel? Can we get a look at the ceiling? That's where Michelangelo painted episodes from the Book of Genesis. There's also 'The Last Judgment' and a lot of–''

''Actually,'' Roderich cut him off, ''Although I do appreciate your enthusiasm, we're here to take a look at the St. Peter's Square.''

''Okay,'' Gilbert said, shrugging. ''Architect was Gian Lorenzo Bernini, the square was redesigned from 1656 to 1667 so everyone could see the pope giving his blessing from wherever they stood and the colonnades are made so they look like the 'maternal arms of Mother Church','' he said, counting of from his fingers and not once pausing to breathe.

Then he crossed his arms and looked at Roderich, a quasi-bored expression on his face. He'd never let the man know that he'd been reading art-historical books the night before. ''So what's next?'' he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face.

Roderich was still staring at him, his mouth slightly open.

''What?'' Gilbert smirked, an eyebrow arched.

Roderich blinked a couple of times, abruptly snapped his mouth shut and started blushing furiously. ''Nothing. Let's move on.'' He stalked off towards a more crowded area. Gilbert laughed and followed him, not caring about the fact that he was technically bumping into everyone. He was going straight through them anyway.

''So,'' he said, rather loudly, throwing an arm around the Austrian. ''Raphael is last, right?''

Roderich froze and cleared his throat. ''Y-yes.''

Gilbert waited. When Roderich didn't elaborate, he took the MTTD out of the man's hands and looked at the screen. ''Yup!''

''Right,'' Roderich said, straightening himself. ''Raphael.''

''His full name was Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino, right?'' Gilbert prompted.

''Yes. How- how do you know all this, Gilbert?''

Gilbert shrugged and decided to confuse the man even further. ''Like you said, I seemed to have brushed up on my history. I can also tell you that his work is admired for its clarity of form and ease of composition. He used Da Vinci's pyramidal composition for subjects of the Holy family, like in Madonna of the Meadow. He also painted the famous 'School of Athens' and his art was considered to be perfect. Even Vasari wrote that 'Mother Nature died with him'.''

Truth be told, he was quite proud of himself for his newly gained knowledge and was eager to share it. When he turned around to look at Roderich, however, he couldn't spot him in the crowd anymore.

''Roddy?'' he called out, but quickly got shushed by a bystander. He stopped dead in his tracks. ''Excuse me?'' he asked the man, who was ''…''.

''I told you to keep it down,'' he said in Italian, obviously irritated. Gilbert couldn't understand a word he was saying, but he knew that something was very wrong here.

They shouldn't be able to see him.

He could feel the eyes of the townspeople on him and started to walk away from the crowd, towards a dark alley where he would be able to hide. Some people were mumbling, pointing at him, and he knew how out of place he looked, with his clothes from the 21st century and his albino appearance.

As he turned around the corner, he bumped right into something – or rather someone. ''S-scusi,'' he muttered and made to move on, but a strong hand on his shoulder stopped him. A tall man loomed over him, two others standing right behind him.

''You're not from around here, are you?'' the man said, then to the guys behind him: ''Maybe he's got some valuables on him. Go check it.''

Before he knew it, the man had twisted his arm behind his back and he gritted his teeth to stifle a cry. The other two were with him in a moment, checking Gilbert's pockets for anything valuable.

''Hey! Get your filthy hands off of me!'' he shouted, trying to kick at the men. The man let go of his arm and shoved him roughly against the wall instead. Gilbert glared up at him as he struggled against the strong grip.

''You shut your mouth or else–'' he got cut off as Gilbert brought up his knee and slammed it into the man's stomach. The man gasped and let go of him. Unfortunately, one of the other guys pushed him to the ground immediately. As he fell onto the dirty street, he saw a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. The man as holding a knife.

In an instant he was on his feet again, looking for a way to escape. Before he could do anything, though, the man had moved and he felt a sharp pain in his side that brought him to the ground again with a startled cry.

He gasped and tried to cover the stab wound with his hands, giving the men all the space they needed to empty his pockets. For some reason all that Gilbert could think of was that they would have no use for the modern things and that it would only cause them a lot of confusion.

He heard them talking above him for a moment and eventually their footsteps retreated. He was left alone in the alley.

He didn't know how long he'd been lying there in the dirt, gasping and clutching his bleeding side, but after a while he heard someone call him. In fact, judging by the rather loud volume it sounded like they were right next to him. They were shaking his shoulder, too.

''Roddy, 's that you?'' he slurred, lifting up his head. A pair of purple eyes were worriedly staring back at him.

''Oh, thank goodness,'' Roderich cried, relieved. ''I didn't know what to– I mean, it must have been a glitch or something! I'm going to kill Mathias… I was right next to you the whole time, but I couldn't– I saw them and I saw you but I couldn't do anything and I mean you just–''

''Roderich, hey,'' Gilbert mumbled. ''It's fine now. We'll… deal with it later. Okay?''

Roderich took a deep, shaky breath. ''You're right. We need to get back.''

''Good idea,'' the Prussian groaned. ''I-if this thing glitches that easily…'' He tried to stand up, using the wall to steady him and wincing at the pain in his side. He could feel Roderich's eyes on him, sharp and concerned.

It took Gilbert a moment to realize that his vision had blurred and blackened. He was falling before he could reach out. Then arms were suddenly around his middle. He heard a grunt in his ear as they gripped him tight, straining, the strength holding him still unable to keep his backside from the ground.

The white noise began to clear, just a little, letting in incomprehensible words. He was lying on the ground, the stones cold and hard against the back of his head, and there were hands on his face, so warm in contrast.

''Gilbert, can you hear me?''

He opened his eyes, then shut them again, groaning a positive reply.

''Gil, stay with me. You'll be alright. Shit, I have to stop the bleeding…''

Gilbert frowned, finding it hard to think.

''We're going back, immediately. Hang in there.''

Within moments, the street had disappeared and he was lying on the office floor instead. He heard Roderich talk to someone on the phone. Or was he talking to him now? He felt warm hands putting pressure on his aching side.

The last thing he saw before closing his eyes was Roderich's panicked expression above him.

Sources

My notes

Algemene Kunstgeschiedenis – Hugh Honour & John Fleming

Several Wikipedia sites

Cracked dot com

History dot com

HistoryLearningSite dot co dot uk

History dot com/topics/renaissance-art

Britannica dot com/art

VisitFlorence dot com

Archaeology-travel dot com