A/N: Here I present to you two long chapters. My fingers are all burnt out. Holy crap. The Rochu chapter is the next one. This is about Pru, Hun, Aus, and friends.

Edited this on 2/12/12- Oh my God my grammar is terrible when I am rushing...

It was just another ordinary day. The sun was shining awfully bright in the pale blue sky, and the breeze was light enough to still be pleasant, but wouldn't leave one's hair in a terrible mess. The water in the river sparkled as it flowed lazily down the hill and deep into the forest. Since it was still early in the summer, flowers dotted the smooth green fields in red, yellow, and even violet. The bushes beside the river were covered in them too, but they were white.

Maybe the round stone structure sitting on the riverbank shouldn't be called a fort, but everyone called it that anyway. It was too small, and not scary-looking enough to be called a fort. It had only been tossed together by a few of the guys who wanted to set fence around their conquered regions, but were themselves crude architects. This structure consisted of nothing but a line of boulders picketed around a small circular area, with an opening that faced the bushes. One could easily walk in and sit upon the bulwark itself, as it wasn't built very tall. A few more boulders were placed inside the enclosure as makeshift seats, and a fire was always lit in the centre, even during the day. It wasn't much, but for everyone in the club, the stone fort was a very cozy place to be.

There were four kids sprawled around inside, and two were sitting on the the edge of the "wall", facing the centre. The first one, Spain, was a boy with dark skin and mousy brown hair, and was wearing a plain grey tunic that was tattered at the sleeves. His companion was another boy named France, who seemed too skinny and tall for his age. He wore a similar outfit in light blue, and had longer, blond hair. The two friends were swinging their legs up and down boredly, occasionally pointing and chuckling at whatever was happening at the centre of the ring.

"Speak, heathen!" a loud obnoxious voice demanded, "What brings you to these holy lands?"

Everyone's head turned to where a kid named Prussia was standing in a dramatic fighting stance. He valiantly poked the tip of his toy sword right at the chest of a short, quivering newcomer called Poland, who looked like he was about to wet his pants. No one could blame him for looking like that, especially when Prussia was that scary, when provoked. His garnet eyes flashed malevolently as he stared at Poland's shrinking form. The bleach white robe he wore accented his albino features, donning him in a seraphic, though eerie glow under the sun.

No one else in the group dared to step in to help, lest they feel their ring leader's evil wrath. The kids were only playing, but sometimes, they could really get into it.

"Well, I-I am h-here to establish diplomatic relations with the western regions," Poland managed to stutter out.

"Wrong answer!" Prussia barked in reply. He threw his sword on the ground, and walked closer to Poland, who had now fallen onto the ground in fear and was trying to crab walk away from what looked like living hell.

Poland's green eyes darted around the ring, desperately looking for someone who seemed brave enough to stand up to the red-eyed devil in front of him. France and Spain stepped down from their individual thrones, as if to respond to to Poland's silent pleas. Instead, they grabbed him by one arm each, plucked him up from the ground, and held him tightly so he wouldn't escape from Prussia.

Austria, who had been hiding in the bushes all this time, sighed to himself. If it weren't for his boss who demanded that he made friends with these fellow countries, he wouldn't even be out here, crouching under a thicket of leaves and white flowers, trying to not make a sound so he wouldn't end up like poor Poland. Austria didn't want to play with these dirty kids, and not to mention, his crazy cousin, Prussia, with whom he'd never had a good relationship.

Austria, being prim and prudish, wasn't very good at making friends, especially not with savages like them. There was no way he was going to endanger his life like this, just so he could report back to his boss at the end of the day!

"Gilbert!" A bright, female voice called from down the hill. Prussia immediately turned back upon hearing his human name. The voice belonged to Hungary, the only female in the group, who was sprinting up the hill at breakneck speed.

Gilbert's constitution completely changed upon seeing the brunette girl. His thin, ash coloured lips cracked into a wide smile as he eagerly waved at her. "Liz!" He hollered at the top of his lungs, as he ran to meet her downstream, abandoning his bullying victim like an old toy.

Austria didn't know Hungary very well, other than that she and Prussia had been partners-in-crime since birth. They did everything together, while Austria was often left to be their punching bag.

The two firecrackers collided into a rough, tackling embrace. Breaking apart, Hungary said sheepishly, "Sorry, I slept in," and laughed a little.

"Whatever, princess," Prussia scoffed, before receiving a well-aimed punch in the face from his grimacing friend.

"I'm not a princess!"

"Okay, fine..." Prussia grumbled, rubbing his bruised cheek and hissing in pain.

Shaking her head, Hungary slapped an arm on Prussia's slumped shoulders and walked him up the hill.

Everyone waved to them as they jumped over the wall and into the fort. France even tried to blow a kiss at Hungary, but was stopped by Spain pinching him in the arm. With her hands proudly on her hips, Hungary's eyes looked around her clubhouse. She saw that everything was in its place, except for Poland sulking in the corner. She went to investigate, assuming that the terrified look that was beginning to grow on his face was from something other than a tall, strong girl walking towards him with a sword strapped on her hip.

"What do you think you're doing?" Prussia snarled, which Hungary ignored.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around here before, what's your name?" She asked the shaking boy.

"F-Feliks."

"Oh, welcome to the group, Feliks! Come, let's go meet everyone." She seized one of Feliks's hands, unfurled his fingers, and dragged him to where everyone else was standing. Feliks tried to keep up with her long legs as she walked, but failed miserably, as he was just so short. He would have tripped over one of the stone seats if it weren't for Hungary's man-like strength that hoisted him up from a fall.

"Okay, so there is Francis," Hungary began, grabbing Poland's wrist to gesture a wave, to which France responded half-heartedly. "And that is Antonio...Spain, say hi!" Hungary growled at the poor boy who had dozed off. He quickly snapped out of it and said "hi" to Poland, who had begun to look a little more relaxed.

"And Vash..." Switzerland nodded.

"And the Netherlands..." Another wave.

"And that is Gil!" Hungary finally pointed to the rather displeased-looking Prussia, who folded his arms and humphed at Hungary's traitorous behaviour.

"And Gil is also going to be a good boy and welcome the new kid," Hungary said matter-of-factly, walking over to stand in front of him, despite that Prussia now looked angry enough to throw one of his legendary tantrums.

"Why's that?"

"Because I said so!" Hungary yelled, as if that was a good enough reason.

"No!" Prussia yelled back, almost jumping two feet up the air in fury, "We can't just let anyone in our group! He, he is a... nonbeliever!"

Austria shook his head. The boy was such an insufferable brat!

Hungary turned silent for a while. Then suddenly, without warning, Hungary began to giggle. Prussia raised a white eyebrow, and everyone else in the group looked at each other worriedly, wondering what had gotten into their usually tomboyish friend. Hungary's face fell into a rather... tender expression. She wiggled her index finger at Prussia, vying for him to come hither. His gaze narrowed suspiciously, but leaned his face towards Hungary's smirking lips anyway. As Hungary whispered into his ear, his eyes looked like they were going to shoot right out of his head.

Whatever she said, it did the trick. Prussia immediately lost all of his rage and succumbed to being surprisingly... nice. He and the group sat down and welcomed their new friend Poland, pretending that the previous episode never happened. In the blink of an eye, everyone was talking, laughing, and making the newcomer feel like he had been one of them all along. It seemed like the only person who thought the whole thing was a little weird was Austria, who was still hiding in the bushes.

They were now explaining the rules of the game to Poland, which was as follows—

Everyone in the group, including Austria, lived on a huge mass of land that was collectively named "Europe." However, the land was divided into countries that were ruled individually by these kids, and among a few others whom Austria had never met. Just northwest from here stood a few islands which were altogether known, creatively, as the "Islands." They were ruled by a small family who preferred to keep to themselves. No one here seemed to have had any close encounters with them, perhaps except for France. In the northwest regions were barren landscapes upon which the kingdom of Scandinavia stood proudly, while Italy was in the south. To the east were the God-forsaken Slavic lands, cold and unforgiving. Not much were known about them either, except that they were owned by two sisters and a brother. According to Poland, they were not very friendly people, and according to Prussia, they were "heathens," and must be "mercilessly annihilated."

Oh, Prussia, Prussia, Prussia... Austria dunked his face into his palm. How in the heavens did that brat become Germania's favourite grandchild?

After the fall of the ancient empire, Prussia had inherited a good chunk of central Europe, while Austria was left with a pitiful fraction. It was land Austria couldn't do much with either. It was full of mountains, and the climate wasn't too warm.

He should have been given a better (bigger) house of his own, instead of having to pay rent to Holy Rome every month, while Prussia, on the other hand, was free to roam wherever he pleased.

Prussia didn't deserve anything he owned. He was just a moron. A conceited, self-centred moron, who got too lucky! Urgh, look at him now, going on one of his melodramatic tirades about how he and his Teutonic Knights won this harsh battle, as if taking the lives of innocent people in the name of honour was something to brag about.

Prussia, that god-damned son of a—

"Hey! I think I see something hiding over there!" France piped up randomly, gesturing to the white-flowered bushes beside their fort.

Hungary squinted her eyes towards where France was pointing. "Yeah!" She agreed, "I think someone's spying on us!"

"Huh? I'll go check it out." Prussia stood up and walked over to where Austria was hiding. Of course, Austria, who had never been physically apt, tried to make a run for it, but failed pathetically. Prussia's hand, or rather, claw, grabbed Austria's cape and yanked him back. His heels slipped in the mud, and he lost balance.

Prussia bent down in front of the fallen boy, "Going somewhere, fancy pants?"

Austria stubbornly held his tongue, looking away from that disgusting smirk.

A few of the other boys had begun to gang up on him now. At least two more were walking towards Austria, cornering him to make sure he didn't get away. Having witnessed Poland's fate, Austria knew exactly what they were going to do to him. Not to mention, he also knew how much Prussia delighted in the fact that they were cousins.

"The hell were you trying to do? Spy on us?" Prussia scoffed, "You know we don't allow dirt bags like you in here..."

Austria would have dared to say, "Look who's talking?" if it weren't for a fist that dove straight into his cheek. Prussia laughed proudly at his deed, while the other boys in the circle took the liberty to throw in punches and kicks of their own.

"Ah! Oh God. I'm sorry... Stop, please! I beg of you!"

"Don't be scared, Roddy-potty!" Prussia sang as his boot made contact with Austria's face, "We're just playing..."

Everyone else laughed in agreement.

Austria couldn't do much but lay on the ground and clutch his head, hoping, praying that they would stop soon. He tried to swallow the vomit that was rising in his throat, but couldn't, as it was being physically punched and kicked out of him. He knew that they weren't, or at least Prussia, wasn't just "playing." He wanted him dead.

"Guys, stop it! You are going to kill him!" Hungary cried.

Prussia put his fist down and turned to face her. "Hey Liz, don't you want to throw in a punch or two yourself at the bastard?"

Hungary ran up to them, and shoved France and Spain away from Austria, who was collapsed on the ground, shaking and whimpering in pain. His hair was torn, and his face was bruised. Without saying anything, she pulled him up from the bloody ground. Austria reached a dirtied hand up to adjust his spectacles that had been knocked askew, and defiantly wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.

Hungary looked up at the boys. "Geez, can't we stop being so mean to other people? It is no fun if we end up scaring everyone away," she said worriedly, gingerly brushing a strand of hair from Austria's sweaty face. "We are countries, but we can't just go and attack anyone who comes onto our land. Then, who would want to be friends with us?"

France and Spain stayed quiet for a few seconds, looked at each other, and both nodded apologetically. Prussia stared at Hungary like she had ten heads.

Hungary looked down at Austria, who was ready to collapse any time now. "Come Roddy, let's get you home." Hungary led him downhill towards where her horse was tied to a tree.

"Liz, come back here!" Prussia commanded, following after them.

Hungary helped a struggling Austria up her horse, before skillfully mounting it herself. "Yeah, I gotta go now. I'll see you later, Gil."

"Oh no you don't!" Prussia countered, climbing on top of his ride as well. "I'm not going to let you go home with that prick!"

"Shut up! You're not the boss of me!" Hungary hollered back, sticking out her tongue.

Oh yes Liz better know that Gil was the boss of her! Okay, maybe not her boss, but at least her best friend, and best friends didn't betray each other like that!

It had always been awesome Gilbert and his princess Elizaveta versus the world, since the whole freaking world began! They had sworn to be friends with their own blood for God's sake!

Which is why Gil, for the past hour or so, had been loyally following Liz and Roddy as they made their way up to his big fancy mansion. Clutching his bow tightly with his one hand, and grabbing his horse's halter with the other, Gil was determined to protect Liz from any scummy scheme that his crazy cousin was trying to play. She may have been a total doo-doo head for having picked Roddy's side, but Gilbert Beilschmidt was no doo-doo head. He had promised to be her friend for all eternity, and breaking promises were... well, for people like Roddy over there!

Roddy was beginning to look a little better, now that they had finally reached Austrian territory. Liz had tried to make small talk with the boy to help him forget, and found that he wasn't actually a bad person. He was just really misunderstood, like Gil was.

"Yeah, don't mind Gil." Liz began, making her horse turn down the block, "You know him, he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes."

"I realize that, Liz."

Austria dared to turn his head back, and his eyes met directly with Prussia's blood red ones. Despite him being at least ten feet away, it felt like he was right beside him. He turned around and immediately leaned closer into Hungary's strong arms.

"But, I think you and him should just get to know each other better." She said kindly, "Then you guys might finally hit it off. I mean, he isn't always such a dick, and you are a really sweet guy yourself."

Hungary giggled after her comment, while Austria felt a slight tug in his heart. It was a soft, almost playful squeeze at his insides, like a butterfly landing on a flower, or the first drop of April rain on his face. He liked it.

"Ah, here we are!" Hungary exclaimed, before Austria had the chance to thank her for her previous compliment.

They had stopped in front of Holy Rome's house, a huge mansion with even bigger front and back yards. Though Austria only occupied a small section, he still felt proud to live inside it.

He turned back to Hungary and smiled, but not without a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. "Thank you for bringing me home, Elizaveta."

He climbed down from her horse, struggling a bit.

"Wow, your house is so big!" Hungary gasped. It was nothing like her own shady, beaten hut. This house actually had a solid, wooden door, and not to mention, a legitimate roof.

"Oh yes it is," he agreed, "Um," he looked away and mumbled softly, "If you want, you are always welcome to visit me..."

Hungary gasped, "Really?"

"...Yes." Austria gave her a rare smile.

"Oh, thank you, I will!"

She's so pretty... He thought.

"Okay, well I have to go now! So I will see you around?" Hungary said after a while, snapping Austria out of his stupor, "Right, and you can come hang out with us any time you like. I'll go talk to Gil, and if he tries anything again, he'd have to hear it from me!"

Just like that, Hungary turned her horse around and galloped back to Prussia. Austria absentmindedly waved to her retreating image, to which the back of her head did not respond.

Liz had been riding side by side with Gil for a while now. None of them knew where they were, nor where they were going. It all started with Gil saying "let's go that way," as he pointed in an odd direction, and they hadn't looked back since. The wind had lulled into a gentle breeze by now, as the night descended its indigo cloak upon the world. Stars streaked the clear sky like a glittering band of silk, as the full moon hung upon its dark canvas. Looking up at the round object, Gil wished it was a wheel of cheese.

He was really hungry now.

Deciding to take a break, he dismounted his horse, with Liz doing the same. He sat down on the plush grass beneath a big tree, and patted the spot next to him for her to sit down. Opening his brown knapsack, he eagerly searched for the couple of apples he had picked earlier today. Holding both of them in his hand, he considered for a while, and handed the slightly bigger one to Liz.

"Thanks."

Ever since Austria had been sent home, they hadn't been talking much. No worries, they weren't mad at each other or anything. They just didn't feel like talking. Though there were times when they were together and couldn't shut up, there were also times when they needed some quiet.

Taking the first crunchy bite from his apple, Gil looked to his friend. Nothing was wrong with her or anything, she looked fine. Except, she had lost her ponytail to the wind, and her light auburn hair was down to her shoulders. Her green armour was clean and tidy, and her boots were tied. He took another bite, and rubbed his runny nose. Gil didn't know what compelled him to stare at her, other than that he felt like it.

Liz noticed what Gil was doing, but ignored it. It had been a long day, and she was tired. After sighing in relief, she tossed her apple cork onto the grass, and turned her head to him. Her eyes rolled across her friend's body, which was literally glowing under the moonlight.

"Get a tan, whitey." She sneered.

"Pft," He turned to face her, "Well you better not stay out in the sun too long. You're starting to look like dirt."

Liz gave his arm one hell of a bruising pinch.

"Ouch! Okay, fine, you're as pale as me."

"That's even worse." She muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Whatever." Gil also tossed his finished apple aside, and sat up.

He suddenly remembered something; a thin smirk played upon his face. He rolled over, and without warning, straddled Liz and pinched her waist tightly with his knees.

"What the hell are you doing?" Liz screeched, struggling and trying to shake free from his grasp. Gil held his arms against the tree trunk, trapping her.

"Prussia! Let me go!"

He laughed like a villain. "You better not forget, Hungary, you said you'd kiss me."

Hungary stopped struggling in the blink of an eye, and her cheeks began to glow a deep red. "W-what?"

"I allowed Feliks to come play with us, because you said you would give me your first kiss. Which means, you're gonna keep to your promise, like a good warrior should." Prussia explained, like she was three years old.

He cupped her hot face, which began to tighten uncomfortably at his touch.

Liz looked around frantically for an escape route, but there was no way around it. It had only been a spur of the moment when she had made Gil that offer, in order to save Feliks from, well, dying.

Yes, that was it. She only agreed to kiss him to save someone. She was only trying to be a hero, was all. It was her knightly duty to save helpless people from impending danger.

She and Gil were just friends, like they always had been. Just friends...

Ah! That damn bastard now had his lips puckered out and was set for landing! Reflexively, she stuffed her palm into his face as hard as she possibly could. Gil fell back in a half somersault, and when he rolled back around, his face was covered with a red imprint of her hand. Growling, she wiped her hand dry of his cooty-filled saliva.

Prussia howled in pain, clutching his face. "You witch! You big fat meanie!" he cried into the chilly night air, "Who would want to kiss you anyways?" He hissed and massaged his swollen cheek. "I hope you never find a boyfriend! Never get married! You'll just end up as a lonely little country for the rest of your life!"

Hungary sighed. She did say she would do it, and she always kept her word. Shaking her head, Liz walked to where he was, and sat back down. Gil was her best friend, and the only person in the world she really, truly trusted. She figured that she'd have to do this at least once in her life, and if it was to be with anyone, she would rather do it with Gil. At least she trusted that he wouldn't go off and embarrass her or something.

"Hey, Gil?" She shook his shoulders, but received no response. She shook them again, and he looked up. His face was red, and not to mention, tear-stained.

"Whaddya want now?"

She didn't answer, and leaned slowly towards him. She was just going to get this over with. It couldn't be that hard. She wasn't going to smack their mouths together passionately or anything, so she had plenty of time to plan ahead, and ensure a safe landing. Liz was relieved that Gil didn't smell as bad as Francis. And, he seemed to be responding too, as he leaned over slowly until their lips were mere inches apart. It can't that bad, right?

It wasn't. It was but a short, innocent peck, like a child dipping his foot into the lake. His lips tasted like apples, obviously, and for some reason, chicken.

None of them knew why, but they both liked it. They pulled back immediately, their faces bright red. They stared at each other for what felt like.. a minute? A whole long hour? Neither of them could tell the difference, because their heads were all spinning daisies.

Okay, they came out of that alive. So, no harm done in trying it again?

A/N: Ah, don't you wish their relationship will always be this perfect?