So, I'm sorry for the kind of late update, but I've been super busy lately. This is a meh chapter, so please don't expect much. I was just writing random stuff because I wasn't feeling a lot of inspiration. Anywho, thank you for your comments, I really appreciate them. Now, I'm going to probably answer one reviewer per chapter, even if that reviewer is always the same one.

ellecasszio: Well, I really do hope you enjoy this chapter because it does answer one of your questions. That's as much of an answer that I can give you right now, as not even I know what Arthur is to Gilbert just yet. I'm trying to figure it out myself, but I think I have a vague idea of what I'm going to have their full past be. I only briefly touch on it right now, but I promise that I'll get more into it in the next chapter.

Now then, please enjoy! And if you have any questions, just type up a review, or PM me. Either works. I will try to answer all of them.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hetalia Franchise.

The Consequence of an Action

"Screw the rules, damn the consequences, and just love. Love until it kills you, because there's nothing better worth dying for."

―Karen Amanda Hooper, Tangled Tides

Gilbert stepped cautiously over the threshold, peering about with a reserved wonder. The building wasn't altogether stunning, but it was reasonably eye catching, with its soaring staircase that arched away from the central foyer sort of room that he'd stepped into, to the obviously mahogany-made office off to his left. To his right, there was a hall branching off to a kitchen, and past that, a dining room. The living room was just ahead of the door and barely to the left of the spiral staircase. He could only assume that bedrooms were held upstairs, as he doubted that he'd receive the opportunity to see them on this particular visit.

The alpha of the house steered him to the left, guiding Gilbert swiftly into the office and gesturing towards a chair. A shuffling of feet behind him alerted the young Alpha to the fact that Elizaveta would not be joining this conversation, as she was being gently guided upstairs, like she was some fragile vase, by her mother.

The Alpha on the other side of the desk cleared her throat, easily snagging Gilbert's attention.

"Before we get into what this is all about, I think it would be best that we introduce ourselves, wouldn't you agree?" she questioned, though it was really more of a demand.

Gilbert just nodded in response.

"Wonderful." Her tone was sarcastic. "Now then, my name is Etel, and my mate's name is Aranka." She made a gesture, implying that Gilbert should give his name. It wasn't that she didn't know who he was, it was kind of impossible to forget about an Albino Alpha that your daughter was best friends with. But, to establish a good about of respect in this arrogant boy, she was going to have to act cool and indifferent.

Clearing his throat, Gilbert composed himself, hoping to God that his voice didn't waver. "I'm pleased to meet you, Etel, and your lovely mate, Aranka. My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Etel eyed him critically for a moment. "Well, now that we are past the introductions, let's get down to business." She paused, watching him out of surprisingly cold amber eyes. "You almost marked my daughter, and without her, or my consent."

Gilbert shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He knew that this was going to be difficult, but didn't assume that she would be so blunt about the situation either. From where this Alpha sat behind the huge chunk of mahogany desk, she looked tiny, minuscule. The room was dark, foreboding, but professional, with its bookcases, sleek dark wood bookshelves, pictures of the family on a family vacation at one point or another, a nice lamp from the 1940s that sat on its little pedestal atop the desk, its neck arching just a bit before suddenly being heavily weighted down by a long metal rectangle. The chair that he was sitting in had arms that curved just a little bit out, ending in waves of rolling wood, like a leaf. Its red leather was nailed into the rest of the wooden seat with conspicuous golden nail heads, and curved down and just around the bottom of the chair.

Gilbert knew that he was stalling for time in his brief assessment of the room, but it'd always been a problem for him to focus when he started getting antsy. Being pushed into a corner was not his thing. It was totally un-awesome of her to do this to him, in his opinion.

"Well, Etel, unfortunately, you are right. I did almost mark your daughter, and I do understand the implications that would come with that, but she was hardly unwilling. And, with all due respect, don't you think it is time to start searching for a mate for your Omega child? She is hardly the delicate flower that you want her to be, and if you're not careful, no Alpha's going to want her when he sees the attitude she's willing to send back," he shrugged nonchalantly, knowing that he could very well be causing Etel to bristle at his words. "Elizaveta is lovely, but she doesn't know her place very well. Are you aware that your Alpha sons taught her to swordfight?" he asked her, just slipping the forbidden fact into their conversation as an extra tidbit to warn her. He wasn't generally so crafty with his words, or even so mature, but this was a stressful, and very tense situation. He had to rise to the occasion.

It worked.

Etel's posture seemed to straighten, though the glimmer of interest in her eyes flickered for a moment, as if she was unsure of where to take negotiations now that she knew this young Alpha could hold something over her head. "What way do you have to prove this, Gilbert?" she asked him carefully, making a mental note to scold Elizaveta later for her blatant disregard for the rules of their society.

"Well, much as I hate to admit it, I had been sword-fighting with her before things got a little more… Er... Interesting," Gilbert supplied, hesitating at the word.

"Sword fighting? You dared to sword fight with an Omega? You could be thrown in jail. You could have injured what may very well be another Alpha's Omega one day." Etel said, momentarily pleased with her way of getting around his threat. It was partially true and untrue. He wouldn't get in the same amount of trouble that she would if the truth was found out, but he wouldn't necessarily get away scot-free either.

Gilbert paled, if that was even possible, and began to think, his eyes flickering once more about the rich office, with its autumn colors shining in a burnished metal sort of fashion in the dim light. "I had never… Thought of that…" trailed off Gilbert then, momentarily quailed, though he did make it his business to meet the other Alpha's eyes. He couldn't very well show any signs of subordination at this point; he himself was an Alpha as well.

Etel paused then, and studied him. He was a strong Alpha, one that she knew would take care of her feisty Omega daughter well. The lines of muscle and stubbornness that could be read in his shoulders told her enough of that, anyway. He had a lovely face, not too sharp, or pointed, but not so round either. A smidgen of baby fat still hung about his cheeks, but she knew that would go away too, once he got into more combat training. There was a gleam in his eyes that attracted her; those red, red eyes. The eyes of hatred, anger, rage, and the eyes of love, passion, and beauty. So much could be read into those eyes, but the only thing she certainly saw there, in those scarlet depths, was embarrassment, that pinking cheek kind, and determination. He wanted to have the chance to court Eliza, and something told her that he'd do whatever he could to catch her. In many ways, this fierce tenacity seemed to forego the bright, angel-white of his hair, pure in its clear, pearly essence. The light shone down on that head of his, disillusioning just how human this boy could be, passing him off as if he were a saint, or some other ancient divinity, with a halo circling and kissing the crown of his head.

"I will give you permission to court my daughter under one condition," she waited, lingering to see his acknowledgement and understanding of her words, "that you respect her decision in whether or not she wishes to accept you as her Alpha. If you lay a single hand on her that she doesn't consent to being there, than I promise that you will regret ever coming to this house and asking my permission. I also do not want you around her at any time during her preheat and heat. Now that you've gotten a taste of Elizaveta, your body is going to be naturally inclined and hell-bent on completing the task, and fully claiming her, not just in a mark, but in a complete relationship as well. Heat would be debilitating to both of you, because in many ways, she'll want the same thing. You are the only Alpha to have ever gotten that close to her, and her body will have already slightly attuned itself to you, especially after you almost completely marked her." With those wise words to leave him with, she shooed the young suitor away, flapping her hand in the direction of the door.

Gilbert didn't need anything else to tell him to get out of there. He was gone in a blur, pausing long enough at the front door to thank Aranka, who was going to invite him to stay for dinner, for taking care of Elizaveta, before he was out of the house and on his way home, his mind pedaling with possibilities, and plans. He certainly needed to do a lot to impress a stubborn Omega like Eliza.

Almost the second Gilbert walked through the door of his home, his mother was dragging him into a chair, and he was greeted with the steely gray, disappointed eyes of his father, and the brighter blue of his brother's. His mother was standing uncomfortably in the background, though you could tell she didn't approve of what he'd done either.

"Gilbert," his father stated, getting straight to the point, "you are grounded, for the total of one month. No ifs or buts about it, you could have wrecked that girl. She wasn't in her right mind at that point, and you should have had better control of yourself. What if you had fully marked her?" his father's voice was stern, anger marking every word, and a grim undertone as well.

Gilbert groaned. This wooing of Elizaveta was going to take a lot longer if he was grounded. His mind immediately began to peddle as he tried to think of a way out of the situation.

"Now, Father, what would you say if I told you that I've already received the approval of her parents to court her?" he asked him, his eyes shining with the same hope that had been compared to the brilliant mass of white hair that perched upon his head earlier on.

"Gilbert, I don't care. Wunderbar, you have permission from her parents to court her; not mark her, or claim her. Am I to believe that there aren't stipulations? That you are her Alpha already? She isn't going to be easy, Gilbert, and you need to learn your lesson. Your punishment will remain as it is, and if you try to persuade me to get you out of it, I will be sure to lengthen it, and maybe talk to Elizaveta's parents and persuade them to cut off their agreement with you."

That had Gilbert gulping and nodding. He understood, both of the threats, though he knew that his father wouldn't go through with the second one. He'd been hinting at Gilbert's need to find an Omega soon, so this was as good an opportunity as any. But that didn't necessarily mean that Alfher approved of the fact that his son had almost marked an Omega who had been rather vulnerable at the time.

Gilbert decided not to mention the sword fighting thing. He had a feeling that would get him in an even worse situation than the one he was currently in.

After their 'negotiation,' Gilbert was released up to his room, where his punishment would commence for the next month. He was to go there every night the minute he got home, and he was forbidden to socialize with any of his friends outside of school. It was pretty awful for Gilbert, as he was quite the socialite when he wanted to be, and now he'd have to miss out on Antonio and Francis's company, as annoying as they generally were.

As soon as Gilbert sat down on the mattress, bouncing a moment as it grew accustomed to his weight, Ludwig was walking into the room. The solemn blue eyes of his younger brother bore holes into Gilbert. It was truly an uncomfortable, and desolate sensation, and so Gilbert glared pointedly at a space just behind Ludwig's head. He was kind of mad at his younger brother. He was the reason that he was in this situation; if the rule-following German had just decided to not tell their parents, he may have still been able to go places after school, and have friends, and acquaintances, and remain frenemies with Arthur Kirkland.

"What do you want, Ludwig?" growled out Gilbert, finally shifting those red eyes to the blond haired boy. They held a slowly simmering anger, not too close to fury or rage, but close enough to warrant a little bit of concern.

"You know I had to tell them, Gilbert. They would have found out eventually," stated Ludwig, as much of a sympathetic tone as was possible for him leaking into the syllables and letters of each word. He'd always been the more mature one of the Beilschmidt brothers.

"Whatever, West, just go away. Your un-awesomeness is giving me a headache." grumbled the older sibling, turning to lay in his bed and flipping so that his back was to Ludwig. He didn't suppose there was a real reason for the name West, other than the fact that his brother had been born in the West part of Germany, unlike himself, who'd been born further East, in the once-country of Prussia.

Ludwig hesitated a moment before leaving. He knew where he wasn't wanted, and besides, he had to check on Feliciano. One could never know when the helpless Omega needed some assistance.

Gilbert was laying flat out on his bed, when his phone buzzed, the bright screen burning a little patch of light on the ceiling. It had gotten dark enough outside at this point for there to be a very small amount of light in the actual room.

When Gilbert rolled over to check the person who texted, he was simultaneously elated and disappointed to find that it was only Francis. Sighing, but knowing he had nothing better to do, he pulled the text open, scanning it quickly before rapidly responding. This was an interesting piece of information, more interesting than he'd ever read before, anyway.

Der Franzose: Gil, le petit frère d'Alfred is coming to our school tomorrow. Exciting, non?

The Awesome Gilbert: For you, maybe, but not for me, Franzmann. I am grounded, thanks to the Elizaveta fiasco.

Der Franzose: Aw, trop mauvais. You will not get to watch me seduce this newest of Omegas.

The Awesome Gilbert: I don't see that as a loss. Goodnight, Francis, you Dummkopf.

And with that last note, their conversation was over. Gilbert set his phone down again, only to get yet another text, but this time, from Antonio. He hated to admit that he still had hopes that it would be Elizaveta who would text him, even though that would be pretty unrealistic, as he'd never given her his phone number.

Die Tomate: Hola mi amigo! How was the lovely Elizaveta's house? ;)

Well, he had to say that Antonio seemed to forgive grudges fairly quickly.

The Awesome Gilbert: It was schrecklich, Antonio. Her parents were there, and her father was intimidating.

Die Tomate: Ah, mis disculpas. Lovino agreed to let me court him! You are jealous, no?

The Awesome Gilbert: Jealous of you? Why would I be jealous of you, having to court such an irritable Omega? Nicht, I have been given the green light to court Eliza, a much more attractive option.

Die Tomate: As if Lovino would be interested in you anyway. Goodnight, Gil.

Gilbert didn't bother to respond, being in a bad enough mood as it was, both of his friends seemed to be doing nothing but furthering this deficient attitude.

Eventually he put his phone away, after playing a couple rounds of a rather addictive app that he'd discovered not too long ago on Francis's phone and had subsequently added to his own gallery of applications. Besides, he knew that eventually one of his parents would think to come and collect his phone. He might have a better chance at keeping it if they don't see him actively using it.

Sleeping, on the other hand, was rather difficult. He had too much pedaling through his mind to really start to sleep. For starters, he had to figure out how to even be capable of talking to Eliza after their encounter in the weapons room. Second of all, he needed to start considering what he was going to get her as courting presents. She wouldn't be in school for at least the next week, now that her preheat had kicked in so strongly, so he at least had a little time. What he was going to do with that time was another matter. And then, of course, there was the little issue with Arthur.

He and the Englishman used to be rather okay friends, but then a rift sprung up between them as soon as Gilbert had become friends with Francis. Arthur just couldn't stand the Frenchman, though that may or may not have been because the then young Francis had managed to convince Alfred, the Omega Arthur has now thoroughly staked as his own, to avoid Arthur for a few years, until they reached high school. There was something about Arthur being unfair to him. Gilbert didn't know, and he was pretty sure he didn't care either. They were back together, and that was all he needed to concern himself with.

Needless to say, it was well into the early dawn hours of the morning before he was able to fall into a fitful doze.

Walking through the school doors, Gilbert was well aware that he probably didn't look his best. But that hardly warranted the dramatic gasp that escaped Francis upon the Frenchman's blue eyes landing on him, and the theatric reaction of Antonio, who's mouth dropped open as he fell to his knees on the floor. The Spaniard then clasped his hands together and began praying to God that his friend would be okay, and that he was still the Gilbert they all knew.

Growling in sleep deprivation and lack of caffeine, another sanction that had been placed on him in lieu of the previous day's events, Gilbert was not in the mood to deal with such mockery. Pushing past his two rather shell-shocked friends, he wrenched his locker open and began to angrily pull and trade binders.

It was, or so he later claimed, his earnest interest in not choosing the wrong things that distracted him from the change of mood in Francis, or the smell of a new Omega flooding into the hall, or the returned stench of Alfred.

What did get his attention, though, was how Francis nearly slammed his fingers into his locker door as he seemed to lose all control of his movements. Blinking slowly, Gilbert glared at his friend for a moment or two before following his line of sight and noticing Alfred's twin walking down the hall.

He seemed rather soft spoken, with a similar facial structure to Alfred, those same cheeks, and cheekbones, nose and lips, but with different hair, eyes, and facial shape. His hair hung down to about his chin, one stray curl springing roguishly from his head and hanging like a satellite around his skull. And his eyes were a lovely shade of violet, even Gilbert would attest to that. He seemed rather skinny, but most Omegas were. Alfred was odd in that he was large for his type, taller than Arthur.

Alfred, unlike his brother, had bright blue eyes that always seemed to be glimmering with excitement and thrill and joy, and innocence. He was always grinning, and putting himself in everyone's business; a total gossip. And his hair was shorter, though he did have a wisp of it that always stuck up out of the mass of shaggy strands, as obnoxious as its owner.

The minute Arthur saw his unmarked Omega, he was by the boys side and tugging him to the side of the hall for a "kiss" which quickly turned into a bit more than just that. Arthur was only about a half of an inch shorter, but he made up for that height difference in his commanding presence. Alfred would always melt around him, becoming easily pliable beneath Arthur's orders. It was both endearing and disturbing, and Gilbert made it a point not to look in the corner that they were at, though he knew there was less kissing and more smelling and pressing. Alfred's backpack was pushed up against the wall, the alien shape to it, with its red buggy eyes, not being used for anything but a cushion at this point.

His twin, on the other hand, had a backpack that seemed to be a white bear, and he was blushing at the rather obvious display of dominance that Arthur was exhibiting. His own pointed avoidance of the corner that Arthur and Alfred were occupying was what kept him completely unaware of Francis's incoming presence.

The blond man swooped in on the boy with surprisingly more caution than he normally had. He seemed to really want to make a good impression, and he knew that this twin spoke French, even if it was only Canadian French, so he already had something in common with him.

Gilbert decided to leave Francis to his own session of courting, choosing instead to head to class.

What he left behind him in the hallway was certainly interesting. Ludwig was pressing his face into his hand as Feliciano pointed happily at his canned tomatoes. Normally the two Vargas brothers were completely against the use of canned foods, but Feliciano had always been rather enraptured with the idea of a "tomato fairy" existing in one of the metal cylinders.

Arthur was burying his nose into Alfred's neck, inhaling the familiar musky smell of the American that would one day be his mate. It had a nice soap overlay, clean and soothing. His lips pressed into that familiar patch of skin that he'd been paying more attention to as the months progressed, his lips working and teeth beginning to nip. Alfred murmured something that sounded similar to "God Arthur, I missed you," but the Alpha couldn't be sure. He was having difficulty controlling himself.

And the same could be said for Alfred. His own nose was working its way into the hair behind Arthur's ear, the smell of rain, and a faint touch of the city to him. He smelled of smoke, but that was okay, because he was Arthur, his Arthur, and he was perfect. A whimper slid past Alfred's lips as he felt Arthur press his teeth a little farther into his skin, and he began to force himself to push the Alpha away.

"Arthur," he wheezed, "we can't. You know we can't."

Something dangerous, frightening, flickered in Arthur's green eyes, but he seemed to quell whatever that was and smile, wearily.

"I know, Alfred, I know," he murmured resignedly and returned to just kissing his future mate.

Francis was working on Alfred's twin, who he'd found out to be called Matthew, though he himself pronounced it differently.

"Mathieu," he murmured, "can I help you with your books?" he wasn't sure if he should start in on their shared French language yet, or give it a few more days. He didn't want to frighten Matthew away, and he was concerned that Alfred would already have told him about his reputation. And for once, he was ashamed, and embarrassed, of what he'd done in the past.

Matthew gazed at him a moment, no emotion showing in those purple eyes, before a soft smile graced his expression.

"You're one of the only people who have noticed me, you know," he said slowly as he let Francis take his books. His thumbs looped into the straps of his backpack as Francis led him to his newly assigned locker. He'd told the Alpha which locker he'd been given, and evidently, it was rather close to Francis's.

"What?!" gasped Francis, gesturing for Matthew to open the locker. "How could someone not notice such a beautiful Omega as you?" he murmured, reaching out with a hand to brush it down the side of Matthew's cheek. "Vous êtes très beau, mon petit Mathieu," he said, hoping to God that his so called 'little Matthew' didn't take that too poorly.

Matthew gave him a surprised look before returning to focus on the task of organizing his locker. Francis couldn't help but to smile as he watched the Omega who'd taken his heart, who had very well tamed him at a single glance. This would be interesting.

Antonio was making a rather dramatic show of bowing to Lovino, not caring about the angry, embarrassed Italian who was flusteredly yelling at him to stop being such a "showy bastard." A bouquet of the National Flower of Italy, Poet's Jasmine, was being held across his chest. One could only assume that Antonio had given him the flowers, and the omega did like them, that was something that could be shown in the way he was cradling the things against him, but that didn't mean that he was going to let Antonio, the oblivious Antonio, know that.

But now, Antonio was very much ruining what could have been a wonderful moment. He was being too obvious, too attention grabbing for Lovino to fully appreciate it.

Eventually, the Italian did give up, though it took a little while, and a few persuasive words from Antonio, before he was willing enough to let Antonio touch his face, and draw him closer to press a chaste kiss to his lips, and then press equally soft kisses to both of his rounder cheeks. It was a sweet moment, and one that had some of the Omegas in the hall smiling in wistful hope.

And last, there was the odd pair of the Danish Alpha and the Norwegian Omega. Mathias was leaning on the locker next to Lukas, the cool, emotionless Omega that he'd taken such an interest in, chattering about what he hoped to accomplish today, and what he'd done last night, and what they would do today, and so on. Lukas, though he tried not to, was actually absorbing every word of his more enthusiastic counterpart. He was also purposefully putting things slowly in his locker so as to prolong his time with Mathias. Well, that, and Lukas did want to get a good look at his Alpha for a little while too.

Mathias always had that wild cropping of blond hair atop his head, that seemed to flop to the left side when one was looking at him. The strands stuck in little spiky groups of their own, though there wasn't a single bit of skin on the top of his head to see. Every now and then, he'd wear a little black cap on the left side of his skull, but that would depend on the day. He also had blue eyes, eyes that were generally just as excited as Alfred's. His outfits would vary in color, from red and black, to pink and green. He was energetic, random, spazzy, and chatty, and a perfectly imperfect match for Lukas.

And yet, the shy, reserved, blond haired, blue eyed Norwegian loved him. He loved how Mathias was more willing to try things, and would make him get out there and try them as well; he hated how Mathias was always so pushy and demanding; he loved everything, and he hated everything as well. But he wouldn't give this man up for the world.

And so, as the bell for class rang, he let Mathias rather jealously and possessively place an arm around his shoulders and drag him off to his first class. He had always been insistent that he walked him to class. It was just another thing to add to the perfection that is, was, and always would be Mathias to him.

And so, the hallway cleared, and the day began.

The end! For this chapter anyway.

What did y'all think of the ending? I was okay with it. Not my best, but certainly far from my worst. I kind of had fun adding the little bits of insight into the different pairings at the end of this. Sorry about not putting PolLiet in there, don't worry, they will exist, I promise.

Until next time! Au revoir.