Dear God, The Cakes
Cherry? Cherry with blueberry filling? Tiramisu with white chocolate butter cream icing? Red velvet dream with almond butter cream? Kahlua fudge supreme with cream cheese filling and...
Needless to say, in order to make certain he could even make them correctly, he made one of each at least a few times so as to make certain they would turn out correctly and took a sample from each for Lovino and Antonio to try. They would be here soon and Roderich had two more flavours he had to get correct and iced and done.
He was in pure heaven. This was where he belonged, in the kitchen. Screw his mother, she never knew what she was talking about. Oh, he loved the piano, but he had always been allowed that. Playing the piano was cultured. Baking cakes, however, had been a problem. Well look at him now! Unmarried, with piano and able to bake cakes all he wanted! Only one out of those three things did his mother ever want him to have and he used that against her.
These thoughts distracted Roderich. Enough so he did not notice when someone came into the inn, let alone when he poked his head into the kitchen.
"Is Eliza here?"
Roderich barely glanced up at the voice. "Sorry Gilbert, you missed her." By an hour or two, he thought, but he did not quite remember.
"...oh, right. Vhatefer."
Gilbert did not sound very thankful, but Roderich did not care much. At least, he did not until he looked up to see the blood running down his face. "Oh my God!" Finally the thought of cakes were pushed out of his head for the first time in who knew how long. "What happened?"
"Vhat?" Gilbert asked, slowly catching on by watching where Roderich's sights were. "Oh, dis isn't all mine," he shrugged, brushing some of it from falling into his eye.
"All...?" Roderich managed, finally pulling himself together and walking over to the other. "You are sitting down. Right now. Before you begin to bleed all over the floor."
"Hey, it's not dat bad–" Gilbert started, but Roderich ignored him and made him sit at the kitchen table as he grabbed some disinfect and bandages for the other man. "God damn! How many fuckin' cakes hafe you mate?"
"Thirty two," Roderich responded as he pushed a wet towel into Gilbert's face. "What on earth happened?"
"Noding."
"...right," Roderich sighed, sitting down in the chair next to him, watching the German carefully as he stopped the cut on his head and then started to work on his wrist. "If I may be so presumptuous, that looks like an awful lot of nothing."
"I know, right?" Gilbert whistled. "But my noding vill be so much more... he'll nefer know vhat hit him."
"Who?" Roderich questioned, suddenly having a very bad feeling about this. It was Gilbert after all. It was bad enough when he said what he was going to do, but when he was being vague?
"Vhat is vith de cakes, man?" Gilbert frowned at him.
"I want Antonio and Lovino to have a choice as to what flavour they want," Roderich responded simply. Gilbert started laughing. He did not stop laughing for a long time. Enough that Roderich found himself less concerned and more annoyed. "I don't see any joke, Gilbert," Roderich frowned.
"You–" Gilbert choked, then settled on his words. "You are giving Antonio and Lovino thirty two choices? Thirty two things to choose between that the both of them have to settle on?"
And Gilbert went on laughing. Roderich still did not see what the big deal was. After all, if Antonio and Lovino could not decide on this, what sort of chance would their marriage stand anyway? Antonio was likely to leave the choice up to Lovino anyway–
Oh. Oh.
Suddenly, Roderich knew what the problem was.
Notes:
Hell yes, Roderich's mother tried to marry him to some girl. Guesses as to the girl? You do know her, it is a Hetalia character, not made up and not a historical figure mashed into my own usage (well, anymore than these countries are in the first place). It is probably obvious, but I will go into detail later.
When Elizaveta is not involved, Gilbert and Roderich get along a lot better. When Gilbert is actually hurt, Roderich is a lot more willing to be nice. Gilbert is just Gilbert. You know, like he usually is.
And, as always with Roderich for some reason, I kept writing him as Austria. If anyone spots an Austria in this chapter, please tell me so I can change it back to Roderich. Hearth has strange people, but not countries. Oh boy.
