I don't know if any of you knew this, but during the long gap between the last chapter of 'Hello Hurricane' and my little oneshot 'X' during the summer, I was in China.
So apparently, my sister, who was in China a month earlier than me, found a store in a mall in China that was COMPLETELY dedicated to Hetalia.
I mean Hetalia figurines, Hetalia pillows, Hetalia bags, pencil pouches, you name it.
And when I came to join her in China, she never took me there.
Why?
Because she pretty much bought the whole store to surprise me for my sixteenth birthday~ :'D So if you're in China for some reason some time in your life...GO FIND IT. IT MUST BE AMAZING.
Oh, and this will…probably not be the last time you'll see me.
I was really skeptical about that new Gak (because from now on I am too lazy to write out 'Gakuen') fic at first but then I reasoned with myself.
Writing that one was a different experience than writing 'Hello Hurricane' for sure…
But I guess that's a good thing…?
I don't know when I'll publish it. It could be next Thursday. It might not. It really depends how confident I am.
As for that plot bunny that popped in my head at an inconvenient time that I told you about last chapter, chances of that one fleshing out is twenty percent.
I sort of got inspired from 'Catcher in the Rye' so…
Just a pointless update for you all on what's going on in my tiny brain…
Anonymous Review Reply:
Demi: ...*nods* Yup. Prussia's got a pre-e-etty bad life after this. Oh, you poor child, Prussia. And after this, you're going to get reduced to a small state. And then your brother Germany will take over your country and massacre/rape you (Or was that Russia? Historians still aren't very certain anymore :P). And then after that, you won't exist. Don't you love your life, Prussia? *shot* Anyway...I'm glad you think Hungary's portrayal is accurate! She's been giving me a lot of trouble, actually...thank you for reading!
Krayon: I think that all of us are secretly sadists when it comes to Prussia. I mean, who doesn't love a good angst moment? I think I've been drowning in angst a little too much now...but pssht, I can't write humor properly for the life of me. Sadistic angst it is! Thank you for the birthday wish and review~
October eighteenth, seventeen forty-eight.
England, France, Austria, Spain, Hungary, Prussia were all gathered in Aachen. The tension between them was as palpable as the wood table they sat around. Any noise was immediately squelched under the weight of resentment and hatred. Anger spun a sticky and tangling spider web all around them.
Austria had a bandage wrapped around the top of his head and his arm in a sling. He kept his eyes calmly focused on the papers on the table, but he would sometimes shoot bitter glares at not only Prussia, who sat across from him, but also England, who stood at the head of the table. England and France were at each end of the table, and though they had previously conversed about the contents of the treaty earlier in Breda castle, they still shot arguments and disagreements at each other constantly. Spain had a deep half-healed gash on his cheek and walked with a limp, but he seemed to be the only one at the table who didn't appear completely aggravated by anyone. He glanced nervously at his allies and at his former enemies, waiting for the agreement to be made. Prussia's face was completely blank, his eyes always averted from everyone.
A large and intricate map of Europe was rolled out in front of them on the table. The unfinished treaty was still piled on the edge of the table near England as he would sometimes mark something on the map with his goose feather quill before scribbling onto the papers. Austria set his jaw as the wet black ink gradually shaved off more and more of his territory and his eyes glinted with indignation, but he could not protest. He was not in the position to do so.
"What else was there that we agreed?" England muttered to himself, chewing on the feathery end of his quill in thought. He was less scathed compared to the rest of the countries with him.
"Had we not agreed about the Duchy of Modena?" France reminded England, rapping his gloved fingers on the oak table. There was an infectious wound on his arm, which he kept tightly bandaged.
Austria jerked involuntarily, and his anger seemed to swell. "How is it," he said through gritted teeth, "that you two agreed on so many things about my territory in this private meeting of yours and I had none of my people there to concur with your plans?"
"Lord Sandwich and France's delegate had worked hard on this agreement, thank you very much," England said sharply, stabbing the paper with the sharp end of the quill, letting it spit specs of ink on the treaty. "France and I eventually agreed that this was the best conclusion for everyone."
Austria held his tongue, but it was evident on his face that he did not find any of the terms of the treaty to be fair. Hungary already knew that Maria Theresa was completely livid at the fact that France and England had agreed the contents of the treaty to end the war on their own. Hungary, on the other hand, cared less and less about it. All she wanted was it all to be finished. She was tired of the fighting, the blood, the death, and the blind hatred.
"As for that Asiento contract—" England started to say.
"That agreement was made a long time ago," Spain protested. "Why do you care about it now, forty years after it was decided upon, and since the war had nothing to do with it?"
"Promises should be kept no matter how much time has passed," England retorted, writing it down quickly on the treaty.
Spain pursed his lips, staring reproachfully at England. England cleared his throat and laid his quill down onto the table. He lifted the treaty to his eyes to read.
"So—here are the terms that have been agreed upon!" England announced. "Austria must recognize Friederick II of Prussia's conquest of Silesia."
Hungary thought she could see the crooked smile flicker across Prussia's face for the briefest moment, but it was gone as soon as Hungary suspected she had seen it. Austria, sitting beside her, stiffened and fixed his gaze intently on the paper in England's hands.
"Austria must surrender his Italian territories to Spain."
Spain gave a small and nervous smile, but Austria did not even look at him. Hungary could feel Austria's growing discomfort and shame radiate from him as his land was stripped away from him bit by bit, and all he could do was sit there and take the beating. She quietly reached out a hand and placed hers on his, squeezing his hand tightly to comfort him. Prussia shifted in his seat across from them.
"France will withdraw from the Netherlands and give back Madras, India to England and the Barrier towns to Netherlands," continued England. "In the meantime, France will regain the Cape Breton Island that was previously lost in the war."
France seemed to consider this more as a loss than gain, but he at least did not have to give up his own original French land yet. He nodded gravely, a little bothered that England benefited from the Indian city France had occupied.
"Austria will cede the Duchy of Parma, Piacenza, and Guastalia to Spain."
Hungary gripped Austria's hand tighter as Austria resignedly watched his land be handed to his enemy. Hungary felt a growing indignation toward the treaty. Austria already had to suffer so much from the war and now he had to gradually lose the land he had.
"The Duchy of Modena and the Republic of Genoa shall be restored," England declared. The Italian land that Austria had once conquered was torn away from him, just like so many other territories.
"Last but not least," England finally said, placing the treaty back onto the table, "the Asiento contract between Spain and me shall resume."
Spain gave a small shrug and bowed his head in defeated consent. England dipped the quill in the inkwell and held it up.
"Anyway want to sign first?" he said almost sardonically.
Everyone was silent. After a moment, Austria silently slid his hand out of Hungary's grasp. He stood from his seat, made his way to the head of the table, and took the quill. In spite of himself, Austria brandished the quill and signed his name in dark ink on the treaty, signing off all of his land and hard work away. He held it up, challenging anyone to step forth and be the second to sign.
Spain looked around the room before moving toward the treaty and signing it next. France followed, wincing when his infected arm panged as he moved it. England scrawled his slanted signature directly underneath and handed the brown and white quill to Hungary. She hesitated before taking it. There was no other choice, was there? She dipped the quill into the shallow ink well and scratched her name onto the treaty. She looked up afterward; the only person left to sign was Prussia.
Prussia pushed his chair from the edge of the table and stood up. His eyes still refused to meet Hungary's, and she was afraid what would be in them. Intense anger? Hatred? She tentatively handed him the quill. He took it and signed his dark signature onto the paper. The treaty was now official.
"Well, that's all settled now," England said casually, corking the inkwell and gathering the sheets of the treaty into a neat pile. "If you all would come with me, we should discuss this with our leaders next…"
"I want a word with you, Hungary," Prussia immediately said.
Hungary froze, her heart jumping. Prussia still did not look up. Austria looked as if he wanted to protest. While the other countries filed out of the room, Austria lingered, putting a protective hand on Hungary's shoulder.
"I'd like a word with you alone," Prussia said more firmly, his eyes set on the map on the table.
"What you can say to her, you can say to me," Austria said mulishly.
"I'll determine that for myself, thank you very much," Prussia said icily. "You have no authority over what I want to say to whom." He traced his fingers across the map, smudging the still wet ink.
"If you're going to hurt her—" Austria warned, gripping Hungary's shoulder tightly.
"Then I'm sure she'd love to have the honors of killing me herself," Prussia interjected bitterly. "Might I say, Austria, that you're absolutely useless when it comes to defense, considering how many times you needed someone to save you." Prussia rubbed his finger and thumb together, smearing off the ink on the tip of his fingers. "Secondly, are you going to drag your damn ass out of this door or will I have to do it for you?"
Austria stiffened reproachfully. Hungary turned to him and gently brushed his hand off her shoulder.
"Just go," she whispered. "He won't hurt me. It'll just be a couple minutes or so."
Austria did not seem convinced, but he reluctantly consented.
"Be careful," he murmured, squeezing her fingers before heading out the door. She turned back to Prussia, who was still not facing her. The door shut behind Austria with a loud thud before engulfing the room in eerie silence.
"You seemed quite confident that I wouldn't hurt you," Prussia said calmly, his eyes lingering on the grandfather clock by the wall.
Hungary clenched her teeth and stood her ground. Prussia still did not make a move.
"How does anyone know I won't kill you right here just for my own enjoyment?" Prussia said, his voice steadily growing colder. "It's possible, isn't it?"
Hungary bit down on her tongue, refusing to make a sound. She didn't know whether she should be afraid or angry or feel anything at all. She could only watch and wait.
"Well, then?" Prussia said sharply. "Do you think I will hurt you? Tell me."
Hungary swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the room choke her. "No."
"Why?" Prussia shot at her immediately.
"Because you have nothing to gain from doing it," Hungary said quietly.
"I have nothing to lose as well," Prussia said flatly. They were silent for another moment until he spoke again. "Why did you have to do it?"
"Do what?" Hungary asked.
"You know what I'm talking about," Prussia said sharply, affronted that she did not know immediately. In truth, Hungary really did know what Prussia meant, but she did not want to answer. She stared down at her hands and suppressed a wince.
"You know already," she said. "I wanted to save Austria."
"I had already thought about it," Prussia said. "There were countless other ways you could have planned out Austria's escape. Countless, simpler ways. So why did you have to—have to say all those lies, do all those things, and make me convinced that you actually felt—?" Prussia stopped himself. He set his jaw, his fists clenched. He finally turned to Hungary, his eyes locking into hers. To her surprise, his eyes were not brimmed with uncontrollable hatred, but dejection.
"It would have been so much better for the both of us if you didn't say you wanted to be free, or that you wanted to break from Austria, or seem like you wanted to help my men," Prussia said, his voice strained. "I was so convinced that you actually cared about them."
"I did care about them!" Hungary protested, her heart panging at the memory.
"You still say that after you helped many of them burn to death?" Prussia argued indignantly.
Hungary wanted to cry out that she had not thought of burning the entire fort during Austria's escape, but remembered that it was she who informed Austria about the spare gunpowder. She had her hand in it, whether she liked it or not.
"My loyalties are to my men, Austria and Maria Theresa," Hungary protested. "I didn't like or desire hurting your men at all, but my duties called me." It felt ugly to say it, but it was the truth. Loyalties stood on a narrow staircase that could only be climbed one at a time.
"I understood that about you perfectly, thank you very much," Prussia said wryly. "I won't berate you for freeing Austria from my prison. Not today, at least. I just want to know why—" He hesitated for a short second, as if afraid she would give him an answer he would not like. "—you had to lie to me so much." He shook his head, trying to formulate words while keeping his proud composure. Telling her what he really felt and thought would be revealing too many weaknesses, something he could no longer trust her with anymore.
"You knew, didn't you?" Prussia said. "How much I had trusted you at that time? You already knew that, didn't you?"
Hungary closed her eyes, trying to bear through Prussia's words with strong indifference. Inside, her heart felt like it was being blown apart. She wanted her guilt and her pain, both their pain to just end.
"You shouldn't have ever trusted me," Hungary said quietly. "I don't even understand why you did, after I was with Austria."
Hate me, she thought.
Positively, utterly hate me.
So nothing I will do to you will hurt you as much as that.
Because it was of Hungary's previous hatred toward Prussia which softened away into compassion toward him (It couldn't be love it was never love was it?) that made everything that had happened and everything that he said and felt about her now hurt her more than anything else before.
If it was just complete hatred, if there was no hope, wouldn't all pain be dulled?
"Because that didn't matter to me at that time," Prussia said, his voice hollow. "I didn't trust you because of your political or international views at all. I trusted you because I—" He stopped himself short, and his face grew slightly paler. They both knew what he would have said. It made Hungary's heart drop like a heavy stone.
"I'm sorry," Hungary whispered, but she was so soft that she doubted Prussia could hear her. "But I love Austria."
Prussia closed his eyes, his face unreadable. Hungary swallowed, the inside of her mouth tasting sick and bitter. The words she just heard herself say sounded empty, as if it weren't a valid answer. How could she answer?
"I know," Prussia said softly. He opened his eyes again. They were steely and dangerous. "Then you can be quite honest with him, can't you? Do me a favor and tell Austria that his prison guard friend, Alois Ostermann, was killed by your soldiers."
Before she could react, Prussia pulled out a long and silver knife from his navy jacket, and for a moment Hungary wildly thought he really would stab her. She drew back immediately before Prussia drove the dagger down onto the table, right through the map.
"I thought you would like your knife back," said Prussia, his eyes cold and unrecognizable. He brushed past her silently; she spun around and watched him walk away, her tongue heavy with so many words she wanted to say but hesitated a second too long.
"Wait," she whispered. She couldn't move; her muscles felt paralyzed, and she thought that if she moved one inch everything would crash down on her, if they had not already.
Hungary spun around and grabbed his sleeve. His arm seemed to stiffen, as if tempted to tear away, but traces of an old affection tied him back. He didn't turn to face her, but he did not move away.
"I'm sorry," Hungary said. She wondered how any of this made sense; she was apologizing to the man who had imprisoned and tortured Austria. But she couldn't bear to let him go. "I never wanted to hurt your men. I never wanted to lie to you or trick you. Please believe me."
Prussia didn't make a sound. His head was bowed and his entire body was completely still. Hungary swallowed, her throat hurting. She let herself grip tighter on his arm, a tingling chill rushing through her spine as she did so.
"Prussia—" Before Hungary could say another word, Prussia pulled his arm away from her grasp. With his head still kept low, he hurried out of the room without uttering a single sound. Hungary didn't even have time to follow him before he slipped out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Hungary stood in the emptiness, completely alone. Frustration, regret, fear, indignation, every single emotion nameable was bottling inside of her, threatening to burst. She wanted to scream or cry or rage, but all the energy in her had suddenly sapped away, leaving her desolate and drained.
Please come back.
She knew he would not.
She turned to the table where Prussia had lodged her knife in. It had cut cleanly through the map of Europe, precisely through Königsberg. She hesitated before reaching out and taking hold of the hilt. She winced; he had not taken the liberty to thoroughly clean his own blood off the knife.
Please don't hate me.
It was too late to regret. Even if Prussia hating her would end all the pain between them, even if it meant saving the world, she would now rather be destroyed than have him hate her.
But it didn't matter what she wanted anymore, because it wouldn't change anything.
Prussia hated her now.
With empty and hopeless defeat, she pulled the knife out of Prussia's heart.
The Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle took place in Aachen, which is around the edge of where Germany is. The contents of the treaty were first thought up by England and France's delegates who met at Congress of Breda. Yes, England's delegate to the Congress was a man named Lord Sandwich. France's delegate was Marquis de Puyzieulx.
Just an FYI, the Asiento contract was that England could sell slaves to Spanish-held territories.
Even though it was England and France who decided on the outcome of the treaty, neither were very happy about the outcomes. France was unhappy how they lost some land that they could have kept and had an advantage of. The war was supposed to be concluded status quo ante bellum, or in the state in which things used to be in before the war.
On the plus side, after the Treaty, Italy managed to gain some stability that would eventually lead to its reunification.