early July, 1718
Hungary wasn't scared senseless out of her mind about being pregnant like she was that late afternoon summer's day when she had found out, or rather Austria had told her (that was embarrassing on a whole different level), but being pregnant was still a rather terrifying thing for her to handle, mostly because of what it meant. In about six more months, she would be a mom. Her! A mother! Her who'd been led to believe since birth that she was a boy! Why hadn't her own anya (1) ever told her the truth? Why?! If she'd grown-up knowing she was a girl, rather than the boy she thought she was until 1525, confirmation of the fact all thanks to Prussia, then maybe she'd have more of a grasp on how she was supposed to deal with this very real womanly-non-nation-exclusive function! And of all the female nations that were still around, why did it have to be her that was first put into the role of motherhood after centuries or so of no new children, save those countries or colonies that were born in the New World? Or if it had to be her who was first, why at a time when none of the old mothers were still around for advice?! She didn't think she could handle this.
Despite her own misgivings, it had cheered her up immensely when they'd gotten back home in early July (the timing of which had nothing to do with the fact that Spain made another attempt to steal back Romano) and told Italy the news about her pregnancy. Hungary didn't think she'd ever seen her auburn-haired child so ecstatic. His stray hair curl had reformed into a heart and his copper-brown eyes had opened wide right before he'd tackled her in his tightest, most affectionate hug ever before he quickly let go, jumped back three feet, apologized profusely for fear of hurting the little unborn bambino or bimba, (2) and then hugged her back much more gently this time with his monologue slipping back and forth in a confused gibberish of Italian and German (he'd never quite managed to get a good grasp on her own language).
Even the older, slightly-taller Romano had tried so hard to look uninterested in the subject of her unborn child, it was absolutely adorable, and she took pity on the southern Italian nation by making sure that she went over and hugged him when he was being his usual stand-offish self. She regretted that she'd never got the chance to know him like she did his younger brother; he was a pretty good kid too, though Austria would have begged to differ when they were younger (about the both of them actually). Romano may have still been pretty rough around the edges and perhaps Spain's rearing of him hadn't resulted in the best possible outcome, but Romano at least had Spain as a trustworthy friend for life and Hungary was glad he had that much; she understood how much he'd needed a friend for himself only relatively recently since his living with Spain and her changing houses eight times a year on average had prevented her from finding this out sooner.
"Don't worry, Romano. You can be my little one's big brother too if you want," Hungary said with a warm reassuring smile to the embarrassed young man, young despite the fact that he was older than her by several centuries.
"O-Only if it's a girl, damn it," Romano stuttered and looked away, but the fact that Romano's strand of hair also curled into a heart gave him away; he would be a big brother to even a son of hers. Romano really was just too adorable when he was flustered like this.
"Of course, Romano," she agreed and kissed his cheek in thanks for his kindness, which was apparently a rare and unexpected privilege she'd garnered seeing as how he didn't even let Southern Netherlands kiss his cheek and he'd known her longer.
"Ooh, I hope it is a little sorella!" (3) Italy exclaimed happily, "She'd be so cute, I bet she'd look just like you, Ms. Hungary!"
"We'll see my darling Italian boys, we'll see," Hungary said with a laugh, "For all we know, you both might end up with another fratello." (4)
"Damn it, I hope not," Romano said with a slight grimace. He was definitely hoping she would have a girl.
"Ve, he'll still be as cute as you, Ms. Hungary!" Italy proclaimed with as much unhindered enthusiasm as before.
Italy and Romano weren't the only ones excited about her child's unknown gender. As soon as she'd told her good friend Southern Netherlands, she was just as anxious as they were for Hungary's pregnancy to hurry up so they could find out.
"I just can't believe that of all the nations in Europe, you are going to have the first child in… who knows how many decades or centuries it's been now!" Southern Netherlands exclaimed, which pretty much summarized Hungary's own feelings about the whole thing except without the tone of dread that Hungary would have used were it her speaking and not the Dutch woman.
"Yeah, crazy. The internationally-declared manliest female Kingdom of Europe, a mother. Pretty ironic," Hungary said rather dryly and vaguely wondered whether it would be a good idea to drink tea or coffee now that she was pregnant.
"It may be ironic, Hungary, but I envy you," Southern Netherlands said seriously, a dreamy look coming over her face and making her look even more cat-like than her face already did on a daily basis. "You've found a man, one of us even and not one of our beloved humans, that you love who clearly loves you back, and you're fortunate enough that you even get to bear this man's child."
"Well, I guess… when you put it that way…" Hungary trailed off, her cheeks flushed red even as she smiled.
"Uh-huh," Southern Netherlands nodded satisfactorily at having made her point and gave the blushing Magyar a red tulip from the vase on the table just to give the woman's fingers something to do. "By the Lord though, Hongarije, (5) you're going to have a baby this winter! Any ideas on whether it'll be a girl or a boy?"
"Isn't it just random, like rolling a dice?" Hungary asked.
Southern Netherlands merely shrugged her shoulders, "Dice can be loaded."
"You can't cheat on a child's gender? ! ? !"
"I bet Monaco would find a way if it were her."
"Who?"
"France's older sister. Ridiculously tiny country, but she's somehow a full-grown woman."
"France has an older sister?"
"Apparently."
"I don't even know if that surprises me or not."
"Not an uncommon reaction, I assure you."
"Back to the topic on hand though, how would I even begin to guess what my child's gender is Snether?" Hungary asked, reorienting back on the original topic as she plucked at the stem of the tulip flower.
Southern Netherlands's brow furrowed slightly, "You've never even given it a moment's thought to just sit down and wonder about what your own child's gender is gonna be? Girl, if it were me, I'd have already been done with the wishful thinking and started sewing dresses for the babe to wear, regardless of if the kid turned out to be a boy or not. And then of course, thinking of the names has got to be the best part!"
"But that's so early!" Hungary protested, "And doesn't that seem like encouraging for the opposite to happen because you're preparing for the one? Also, we can't pick nation names; it doesn't work like that!"
"Oh nooo, I'm not talking about the nation name, I'm talking about the human name. Your parents gave you yours, didn't they? Heck, we can even change our human names since it's not like they mean anything outside of the context they're being used in for our disguise." Hungary was not about to tell Southern Netherlands that she was one of those who had changed her human name because she couldn't go around as a woman with a boy's name, else the whole point of the disguise thing kinda failed. But Southern Netherlands had already left that topic of conversation and was onto the next one, "Infants and young toddlers wear dresses anyway regardless of their gender so that they can't escape and get into trouble when the adults aren't looking, so it'd be no problem at all even if the baby is a boy. Don't mothers have some kind of intuition about what they're kid's going to be?"
"Doubtful, else there'd be a lot less hassle with the majority of monarchs waiting nigh nine months for a son only to end up with a daughter. But if there is any kind of intuition about that, I certainly don't have it," Hungary added with a grimace, not at all eager to recount exactly how she'd found out she was pregnant in the first place.
"Anywho, just between the two of us, I hope you have a girl. I mean, just think about it Hungary! An adorable little girl nation for you to hug and cuddle and fawn over because she's just so. freaking. cute! You can put her in some of your traditional dresses like you told me you did with Italy that one time and you could play with her hair and put it up into all kinds of styles, like braids! Braids always look cute!"
It seemed that the general prevailing wish, among those that Hungary was close to, was for her baby to be a girl, but all of this attention to this one detail also made it blatantly-clear to her that the one person who wasn't wondering openly about the child's gender was the one who mattered most, Austria, and it concerned her a little. Did he even care or was he just really good at hiding his preference? If the latter was the case, then which gender did he prefer for their child to be? And how would he react if it wasn't?
When she decided to confront him, she found him tuning his harpsichord, so she waited quietly and patiently just outside the door with a soft smile on her face as she watched him work. He was so intense when he was focused on his music to the exclusion of all else; he probably didn't even realize that she was here. She was decent with music, but nowhere near an expert's level and certainly not good enough for her to discern the slightly-faulty notes from the good ones, but if Austria could hear it, then it would bother him until it was fixed. Once he seemed satisfied with his tuning, he settled himself down on the bench and played a short little medley that Hungary had long-since come to identify as Austria's self-check, post-tuning piece because it struck every note on the harpsichord keys and it had an almost haunting kind of tune as a result. When his tuning inspection was complete, Hungary began to clap and it pleased her to see his shoulders tense out of surprise and the slight smile on his face when he turned around to face her. She didn't know many other people who could bring that soft expression to his facial features.
"Any particular favorites you'd like me to perform or are you here to drag me away to go do other things?" he asked.
"No, it's fine if you stay. Haven't managed to acquire one of those new pianofortes of Italy's yet?" she teased as she entered the harpsichord-clavichord room and stood beside him.
Austria gave a dry laugh and shook his head, "No, but I still plan to. I want to experiment with it and hear for myself just what this new instrument can do. To summarize what Italy's told me about it; the pianoforte is the offspring of the harpsichord and the clavichord: an instrument that carries the loudness of the harpsichord with the control of the clavichord."
"Oh, Austria, you and your toys," Hungary giggled with a slight shake of her head, "I remember how excited you were at having a new collection of Ottoman Empire's instruments after the Great Turkish War."
"I acquired a great many things that made me happy as a result of that war, kedvesem; can you fault me for that?"
"Hardly," she said softly, thinking of Karlowitz, and it reminded her of why she'd come to see him in the first place, "There is something that I wish to ask you though."
"What is it?" he asked, his expression back to a normal, patient neutral.
"Well…" she began, slightly hesitant, "In talking with Italy, Romano, and Southern Netherlands, we ended up discussing our baby's possible gender and I realized that you hadn't said anything about it at all and… in most situations, gender tends to be very important so… Do you have a preference too?"
His expression didn't change at all, not even slightly, but she waited. Waited even as he turned back around to face his harpsichord and plucked out a few casual notes. Was he thinking of how best to word his answer or was he pondering over one? With him, it could be either.
"If you asked the other male nations the same question, I'm sure that the majority of them would tell you they would prefer a son without a moment's hesitation. All of my Scandinavian cousins and definitely my older brother would give you that answer." Hungary figured that this was Austria's roundabout way of answering her question, but when she opened her mouth to ask for confirmation of this, he turned toward her again and said, "But I am not Prussia, nor am I Denmark, Sweden, or Norway. Nations do not have to worry about matters of inheritance like humans do, so I need not be concerned with a daughter receiving nothing." He reached up and touched her cheek, smiling warmly up at her, "It is enough for me that you are the mother of my child; I am content with either a son or daughter, beloved."
"Austria, you're amazing," Hungary said as she covered his hand upon her face with her own and wondered for perhaps the millionth time how she was so lucky to have fallen in love with a man like him.
()()()()()()
early August, 1718
Just because Romano was living with them now didn't mean that he didn't keep up some correspondence with his old 'boss' whenever it suited him, even if said boss was currently trying to reclaim custody of said Italian (as long as Romano wasn't passing along any war secrets, Austria really didn't have a problem with it). Of course, this meant that Spain was, by consequence, informed about Hungary's pregnancy, and the timing really was perfect because at any other time, France would have known as soon as Spain did since both had Bourbon kings as a result of the Spanish War of Succession.
However, since at least August of last year because that was when he'd been attacked, Spain and France weren't talking to each other because Philip V was claiming inheritance rights (that he'd already renounced) to the French throne and France wasn't too happy about that. Most shocking of all was that Britain and France were actually working together to stop Spain's boss's ambitions. Austria sighed as he dropped the letter upon his work desk and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. And if it were any other time, he wouldn't mind Spain wanting to come and visit Hungary, especially since they got along well and he was a good friend, but he couldn't trust that his old partner didn't have an ulterior motive for wanting to come visit.
Spain was not as strong as he had once been, but he knew what many other nations did not. When he had first met Spain, he had finally accomplished his Reconquista and was a united country at long last after so long having lived under another's boot for centuries, and Austria could see all that raw potential within in those playful green eyes. He could see within them just how powerful this aspiring nation would become and he'd decided right then and there that Spain would become his too. He was another project, another goal, and one that was accomplished within a much shorter timespan than some of his other ambitions in the east, but his instincts had proved correct. Spain quickly became a fierce and mighty empire to rival his own older brother, though those times were long gone now. So it did not matter to Austria that Spain was no longer a powerful empire because there was no doubt in his mind that if he allowed Spain to come to his home, he would once again be faced with those same eyes from back then: those of a young Iberian nation fresh out of his Reconquista.
He was not going to let Spain have Romano back just because he wanted him. Austria could certainly understand Spain's unwillingness to part with his charge, but he was still quite sore about Spain sneaking into his house to try and steal back Romano last year while he was preoccupied with defending the younger Italian brother from Ottoman Empire, and then trying to steal him again in early July this year before he'd even finished up with Ottoman at Passorwitz. Well, after having joined the Triple Alliance of France, Britain, and Dutch Republic on August 2nd (and thus forming the Quadruple Alliance) for the exact purpose of preventing Spain from obtaining either the French throne or South Italy, he had all the political reason necessary to deny Spain his request to visit and he told him so in so many words in the rigid letter that he penned back to him in French, a language he found himself writing in more and more when discussing international affairs with other nations.
Hungary was unhappy with his decision.
"I didn't get to see him much, but I liked Spain," she told him with a slight pout while they were working in the armory and it made him want to laugh at how very childish she looked. "He was fun where you were stuffy."
"Hungary, that's not fair!" Austria protested instantly in a tone that was most definitely not a whine.
She raised an eyebrow at him in amusement while she continued to clean the sword she was working on. "Oh? Then please tell me just how much more fun you were in comparison to the Spaniard."
He decided to ignore her jibe. "Hungary, I promise that as soon as Spain gets his act together and stops trying to reacquire Romano the wrong way, I'll invite him over myself."
"Thank you, Austria. You miss him too, don't you?"
Austria gave a nod as he continued his examination of the Charleville Musket, a present courtesy of France. "I do. It's difficult losing someone you're close to. It seems that I've lost quite a few of them over the course of my life."
He heard Hungary pause in her ministrations and he wondered if perhaps he's let slip too much. He knew he had when she was suddenly beside him and lowering the barrel of the musket to look deep into his eyes. Yes, he'd lost too much of his family already: his mutter and his vater (6) (but no-one had those anymore anyway), his brothers Switzerland and Holy Rome, and recently Spain. Who would be next?
"You haven't lost me," Hungary said firmly as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. "And we still have this," she added as she placed her free hand upon her ever-growing stomach.
"Ah. So we do," Austria agreed with a light smile. So long as he had this, he could handle it.
()()()()()()
18 September, 1718
No… No, no, no, no, no…! Of all people, why did it have to be him coming to pay a visit?!
"Helloooooo, Austriaaaaa! I know, I know, no need to thank me for providing you with a long-deprived dose of my awesomeness," Prussia declared with all his headache-inducing arrogance after having burst through his office door with all the brazenness of a boar.
"It hasn't been long enough," Austria grumbled, "And why are you even here? Aren't you busy fighting Sweden seeing as how you joined that coalition to take him down three years ago?"
Prussia's expression instantly turned sulky. "He's too busy fighting Norway at the moment, so there's not really anything for me to do except make sure he doesn't try and take back what I've nabbed of Western Pomerania."
"Following Brandenburg's old long-term desire to obtain all of Pomerania, are you?"
Prussia's eyes narrowed angrily at him, as if that would somehow faze him. "This has nothing to do with Brandenburg," Prussia spat venomously, "I finally rid myself of him when I became a Kingdom and I'm going to acquire Pomerania for my own sake and no-one else's."
Austria couldn't quite entirely suppress the corners of his mouth from twitching upward slightly. It was not very often that he managed to force Prussia onto the defensive, and so quickly, but his undesired marriage to Brandenburg had always been a touchy and sensitive subject to his older brother. Though Prussia probably realized this, it wasn't smart to mention his ascension from Margraviate-Duchy to Kingdom because it was only by the grace of the Holy Roman Emperor that such an event had even been allowed to transpire. Lord only knew what it did for Prussia's ego to be reminded of that. Regardless, scoring a few points over Prussia wasn't going to get him out of his house.
"Then why are you here instead of staying at home to make sure that your newly-acquired possessions aren't seized while you're gone?"
"Pfft! I may be supremely awesome, but I've also got my Soldier King, and he's not gonna let anything happen on his watch, so I don't need to be there all hours of the day, and therefore have plenty of time to spare to come and pester you!" Prussia declared with all his splendid egoism returning in full force as he turned a spare chair 180 degrees and sat down backwards with his arms resting on the back of the chair.
"Well, unlike you, I am busy with a war, so I have no time to deal with you," Austria told him, hoping without much faith that the eighteen-year-old Kingdom would go away and leave him alone.
"Ah, trying to punish Spain for attempting to steal Romano, huh?" Prussia asked with a mischievous smirk.
Austria rolled his eyes. "Yes, he's occupied Sicily and Sardinia and I intend to oust him out. Britain at least managed to eliminate the Spanish fleet off of Sicily in early August, so that's one less thing to have to contend with."
"Eyebrows Britain, huh? Heh-heh, did you know his George I is the uncle of my Soldier King and the grandfather of my Crown Prince? Britain sure is starting to become a powerful little demon. Man, I remember when that Richard the Lionheart king of his got arrested by you and the guy's mother had to bail him out; such a mama's boy."
"Indeed he was…" Austria said slowly, though his mind was instead focused upon what Prussia had said about his immediate ruling family having such a close relationship to Britain's.
Frederick William I was a nephew to George I and also a cousin to the current Prince of Wales, another George. Not only that, but Prussia's Crown Prince Frederick was both a grandson to George I, and a nephew to Britain's heir apparent, and all through his mother. Prussia was not a particularly powerful state within the Empire, but it made Austria uneasy to think of Britain acquiring the position of Elector of Brandenburg on top of already holding the Elector of Hanover title for his family. If Britain and Prussia were thinking of uniting through their ruling families, he would have to put a stop to it. The idea of a British-Prussian union was not something he ever wanted to see become a reality.
"Say, where's that psycho woman anyway?" Prussia asked suddenly, looking a little out-of-sorts.
Austria stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to clarify which 'psycho woman' Prussia was referring to, seeing as how he seemed to think that all nation women were psychos.
"Yours, you dumbass," Prussia groaned with a roll of his eyes, "You didn't think I'd risk my hide coming here to see the crazy bitch who threw your guys out the window and started the Thirty Years' War, did ya?" It was a constant source of amazement to Austria how his stupid older brother had managed to live so long with such a crude mouth. "Normally, your psycho Hungarian woman would have found me by now and we'd be either bro-fisting or skillet-to-face-smashing, so where is she?"
"Last I saw her, she told me she was going to take a nap a couple hours ago," Austria informed him dully as he leaned back in his chair and picked up a paper regarding the finances for the expedition in Italy.
"What? Hungary? Napping?!" Prussia demanded, clearly dumbstruck, "The hell! How old is she? Two hundred?! Hungary doesn't take naps; what have you done with the real Hungary?!"
"I haven't done anything to her," Austria sighed irritably. She'd been taking a lot more naps as of late because of her pregnancy; there wasn't anything that unusual about it.
"Bastard," Prussia growled as he stood up suddenly and slammed his hand down on the desk, glaring at him. "You're hiding something about her, now what have you done to my best friend!"
"For the last time, you moron, I haven't done anything!" Austria shouted back.
Prussia looked ready to make another angry retort when there was a sudden extremely-loud thud followed immediately by Prussia's body being thrown violently to the floor sideways, just missing the corner of his desk. The source of the force was from a combination of the heavy skillet lying next to his brother's bloody head and the expert throwing strength of the grumpy, aura-angry woman standing just outside the door with her right arm outstretched.
"I thought I heard some Low Prussian German being spoken around here," Hungary said angrily, and the frightening magenta aura around her wasn't going away either. "How's a woman supposed to sleep when you won't shut up, you dätsch Kujel!" (7)
Regrettably, Prussia was already regaining consciousness. "Damn woman… If you're gonna talk like me, then say the words right!" Prussia demanded as he stood up and turned around to face the devil woman… but all words left him immediately as soon as he saw her, clearly well-rounded and absolutely radiant (in Austria's biased eyes of course) in the sixth month of her pregnancy. Prussia stared blankly for a good solid five minutes before he jumped back and screamed at the top of his lungs, "AAAHHHHHH! HOLY CRAP, YOU'RE FAT! ! !"
And thus Prussia spoke what would be remembered as his famous last words in future generations, before his body was even brought to its final resting place. Amen.
"If he gets back up… I'll kill him again…" Hungary said with an angry huff.
"Szerelmem, (8) don't waste anymore of your time on that idiot," Austria told her, thankful that she was considerate enough to 'kill' Prussia in such a way that he didn't get blood all over everything. "How are you feeling? Did you manage to get enough sleep or did he wake you up?"
Hungary groaned as she leaned against the door frame. "I was just barely awake when I heard that dooschface bothering you. He's way too loud and obnoxious."
Austria gazed at her for a moment before deciding that concentration on the finances would be impossible. He stood up from his desk and moved to join her. "I apologize for my brother's stupidity, Hungary."
"Well, there's really no helping that. I suppose I can forgive you, but…" she sighed, and then placed her finger upon his lips with a sly smile, "only on the condition that you kiss me, kedvesem."
"And what kind of condition is that?" he chuckled, but acceded to her request all the same.
"Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!"
Only to be interrupted by Italy.
"Mr. Austria! Ms. Hungary! Urgent, urgent, urgent, urgent, urgent news! The Emperor just sent me to tell you that Empress Elisabeth's delivery is imminent and you need to come quickly!"
"What?! Right now!" Austria demanded, horror-struck. His boss's wife was in labor and he wasn't told before now!
"Oh g'dy… Looks I've got g'timing," Prussia drawled almost drunkenly from inside the room as he stood up (an impressive feat in and of itself) while trying to staunch the river of blood flowing from his possibly-broken nose.
"Prussia must die!" Hungary mumbled murderously, her angry aura coming back full-force.
"You can kill him after we attend the birth, now come on! Italy, you lead!"
"Yes, sir, Mr. Austria!" Italy answered with a salute (with the wrong hand) and quickly led the way to where hopefully an archduke was being born.
If he didn't get a son, he'd end up like Spain, and then where would he be? Charles was working hard on getting the other nations to accept his Pragmatic Sanction for little Maria Theresa to become his heiress presumptive in all the Habsburg realms, and even ahead of his late brother's daughters, but Austria wasn't naïve. He knew there were some nations that would look for any excuse to try and take him down, so the situation needed to be avoided at all costs. He needed a son, and he prayed hard that the nearly year-long wait hadn't been in vain to achieve that goal. Austria knew they'd arrived outside the correct room when he saw Romano sitting on the floor just outside the door with his arms crossed.
"Hey, are you alright, Romano?" Italy asked when he reached his older brother.
"I'm fine, you damn jerk!" Romano retorted angrily, as foul-mouthed as ever, "I just don't want to be in there watching… that…" the older Italian gave a slight shudder.
Austria understood. After all, this was hardly the first time that someone had been born since Romano had grown-up and been physically old enough to be allowed beyond those doors. Romano just didn't have the stomach to be present for a birth and Austria couldn't blame him. Birthing wasn't exactly a pleasant affair for anyone involved. He knew Italy couldn't handle it either for about the same reason.
"You two are going to wait outside again until it's over, I expect," Austria said, more for confirmation's sake then any real need for an answer.
"Absolutely Papà Austria!" Italy replied enthusiastically despite the fact that his face had blanched.
"Yes, Mr. Austria, sir," Romano said grumpily. At least he was… somewhat more respectful to him in adulthood, despite his… dislike for German-speaking people that Austria did not doubt probably originated in some part from Vater Germania killing their Grandpa Rome.
"I'ma gonna wait wi'the Italies," Prussia told them, his voice twanging oddly because he was still trying to stop his bloody nose with a spare ragged length of cloth that Austria could not be bothered to ask where he'd acquired it.
"What for?" Austria asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion, "I mean Italy and Romano are understandable, but why are you going to sit out here? You've seen this before with your own royal family, haven't you? It's hardly anything different."
"… No… I don't… even watch the births of my own family," Prussia admitted quietly, his face flushed with embarrassment.
Austria gave a sudden snort of laughter at seeing Prussia so uncomfortable. "You practically bathe yourself in the horrors of war and yet you get squeamish over seeing a baby being born?"
"Shut up!" Prussia shouted, his face still incredibly red, "There's a huge difference between war and birth, you know!"
"I do know, Prussia," Austria replied calmly. "War is what ends lives while birth begins new ones. It must be difficult to be so close to something that is the very antithesis of your life's work."
"Shut up," Prussia grumbled with a glare as he settled himself against the wall, unable to refute Austria's words, "Just somebody tell me whether you've got an heir or another daughter when it's done."
"Of course," Austria responded and entered the room with Hungary.
Taking a headcount of the other nations present, Austria saw that Southern Netherlands, Bohemia, Slovak, Carinthia, and Croatia were already present. Them plus the two Italies outside and Hungary beside him consisted of at least most of the territory he was responsible for, if not all of it. And apart from the nations, there were plenty of ministers present to be certain there was no question of the child's gender. All that was left now was to wait and let nature take its course.
Except that this time wasn't like the other births he'd witnessed.
It wasn't that something was going wrong; on the contrary, everything was fine, but never before when any of his family's children were born had he been expecting one of his own. In about three months, it would be Hungary giving birth to his child. Hungary going into labor. Hungary screaming in pain. His violet eyes flicked about to every single head in the room. So many men. All here waiting and watching, and Austria found himself struck by an overwhelming sense of vertigo and he suddenly had the horrific image of seeing not the Empress, but Hungary, sprawled in the birthing chair in the agony of this exclusively-female duty before the many uncaring and critical male eyes, and he felt sick. He would not accept this, not for Hungary.
Austria quickly clasped her hand tightly from beside him and turned his head slightly to whisper into her ear. "We'll draw from our peasants' traditions when it's your time. I will not let our child be born at the expense of your humiliation."
Hungary said nothing in reply save for squeezing his hand tighter and leaning her head against his shoulder, and he knew that she'd been having similar horrifying thoughts. This time, out of respect for the woman he cherished so dearly, he did not actually watch the birth of Charles VI's second daughter. He was disappointed like Charles VI, and was bothered enough by the continued lack of a son that he couldn't even walk out that door yet because Prussia would be there waiting to taunt him for having yet another daughter, but at last the horrid ordeal was finally over. He never remembered it ever being so stressful for him before.
Interestingly enough, the first person to confront him following the birth was neither a man nor a human, and he stared down at Southern Netherlands expectantly, wondering what it was that she wanted to say to him. The way she had her arms crossed and kept her expression firm and unyielding gave her an uncanny resemblance to her older brother. They were both merchants by trade after all.
"So, Austria… What shall you do?" she started, and though it was a vague opening, he didn't need to ask what she was talking about.
"Properly and not like this," Austria responded, equally vague.
Southern Netherlands gave a slight half-smile. "Very good. I shall be the midwife."
"That's acceptable."
"Oh, can't you two ever talk to each other in complete sentences for once?" Hungary said with an exasperated laugh.
"Aw, but Hungary, that would take the fun out of it?" Southern Netherlands protested with a pout, "I don't get to play this game all that often, and I have to keep in top form if I'm to haggle and bargain with the best of them, especially Dutch Repbulic. Broer's (9) ruthless in his business dealings, you know."
"Indeed," Hungary agreed then turned to look up at Austria, "Ready to leave this room now?"
Austria flinched slightly. "Not quite. First I need somebody to check and see if Prussia's still waiting for me or not."
At the very mention of Prussia's name, a malicious grin stole over Hungary's face and she was once again emitting a terrifying aura of doom. "That's right…" she said darkly, "I still need to kill him for what he said to me earlier."
"Maybe Southern Netherlands should go check for us instead," Austria suggested, at the risk of Hungary's wrath. Ordinarily, he wouldn't mind, but if Prussia was unconscious on his floor, it meant less time that Prussia wasn't traveling back home and more time that he would have to put up with his older brother's taunting about the lack of an heir, something he just couldn't handle right now.
"Sure, I can do that," Southern Netherlands agreed readily enough, though her green eyes were asking him what in God's name Prussia had said to cause Hungary to be this violent to him so quickly. Austria only shook his head; now was not the right time to answer that.
(1) anya (Hungarian) – mother
(2) bambino/bimba (Italian) – baby
(3) sorella (Italian) – sister
(4) fratello (Italian) – brother
(5) Hongarije (Dutch) – Hungary
(6) mutter/vater (German) – mother/father
(7) dätsch Kujel (Low Prussian German) – dumb boar
(8) szerelmem (Hungarian) – my love
(9) Broer (Dutch) – Brother
History time! (and other explanations):
The hardest part about this was probably writing Romano, and not because I don't like him (on the contrary, I love him), but because in canon material, he doesn't really interact with all that many people (Spain, Italy, and Germany predominantly with a little bit of Belgium, Britain, Ottoman Empire, France, Rome, and Prussia), and most of the 'little bit of' are from when he was a kid or are just one scene/dialogue exchange, so it's really hard to get a grasp of how the adult Romano would interact with others (especially when he acts different towards women), but I did my best. With my limited information about him, I figured that he too might see Hungary as a sorta motherly, big-sister figure and so would allow himself to be more friendly and let her have some limited degree of motherly prerogatives.
Oh, and that reminds me; there was no Belgium back in 1718. Belgium wasn't called that until 1830 and after her brother rebelled against Spain, he took on the name Dutch Republic which left the future Belgium to be called the Southern Netherlands (or Spanish and then Austrian). We haven't seen very much of Belgium, so I mostly characterized her from the impression that I received about the Belgian people and culture from a history book that I was reading (yes, I have a book on the history of Belgium). Let me tell you, they've been a strong, independent people considering that they're not united by geography or language the way some countries are. Similarly, there was no Slovenia either. Slovenia did not exist until 1918 sorta, so it took me a long time to figure out but I did eventually come to the conclusion based on all my research that the modern-day Slovenia would most-likely be called Carinthia in the 1700s.
Fun fact: the piano, or pianoforte as it was first called, wasn't actually invented until the early 1700s. However, the harpsichord has been around for a very long time and looks a lot like the piano (so in all the Chibitalia stuff, that means that the instrument that Austria was always playing was not a piano, but probably a harpsichord). And in talking about recent inventions; the Charleville Musket was a French-made musket and was pretty new in the early 1700s.
Also, getting further along into the 1700s, Latin is rapidly falling out of use among the educated ranks and French is replacing it. In fact, the treaty for the Polish War of Succession around the 1730s was the very last treaty actually written in Latin, so Austria and the others are starting to forget good chunks of Latin because it's so negligible. They might remember enough for Church stuff, but for the most part, they're forgetting it.
And now Prussia! I haven't really had a chance to discuss this with anyone or share my thoughts, but I came up with it when figuring out how Prussia, as the Duchy of Prussia in 1525, became the Kingdom of Prussia, centered on the Brandenburg territory in 1740 in the canon material. This is what I came up with: the Duchy of Prussia was inherited by Brandenburg and they married, forming Brandenburg-Prussia, but in 1701, when an opportunity rose for an upgrade, Prussia killed Brandenburg and the lands that were Brandenburg's were now a part of him, so because there was no Brandenburg anymore, he became the Kingdom of Prussia.
I know that Prussia may seem a bit out of character, but remember that this is still a couple decades before the Austrian War of Succession when Prussia first emerged as a formidable European power, so he's still pretty much overlooked right now and he also had to cope with the fact that he's only a Kingdom because the Holy Roman Emperor wanted another ally for the Spanish War of Succession. In this fic, Hungary also mentions that Prussia speaks in a Low Prussian German dialect, and I decided this because that's the German that was spoken in East Prussia (where the Duchy of Prussia is) and it was influenced by the Old Prussian language as well as the other neighboring Slavic languages. It's the closest he can get to speaking his old mother tongue because the Old Prussian language died out only recently for him in the 1700s because of the numerous plagues from 1709 – 1711. I really don't think that Prussia would be able to handle watching a birth either. He's experienced in war, but that's a completely different situation and it's perfectly natural to be squeamish about one, but not the other. For example, I am perfectly fine at looking at a dead animal and dissecting it and I have fun doing so too, but the one time I saw a video of a horse undergoing surgery, I got squeamish and I knew right then and there in an instant that medical work was not for me.