(ooc) drabble
Table C; 007: Go
(Hungary, Spike, mentions of Austria.)
"If you don't like it, why stick around?" when he said it, it sounded so easy.
She supposes it was easy, once. When she'd been a nomadic little nation, horseriding and tents and songs around the campfire. Just leave the next day and find someplace better. Somewhere nobody told her what to wear, somewhere nobody needed sheets cleaned and silverware polished, where nobody would try to tell her what language to speak and what songs to play.
Some days she just wanted to leave. But her people couldn't, and if she went away what would become of them? Would there be another her, another Nation named Hungary? Or would they become homeless, eventually fade into another people like others had before them? Either way, Elizabeta loved her people too much to take that kind of chance. They were her life's blood. Her heart and soul and mind and memory. Going would never be easy again.
...or possible, really.
But that didn't mean she couldn't get a break.
"And what do you suggest? Eloping?"
"Well, if you have someone in mind."
"Can't say I do. Should I?"
"I'm hurt!"
They joke around. This is her vacation, this, and his music. Not that he plays it all himself, but jazz will always be Spike's music in her mind. The community and the internet in general prove helpful once again, providing her with tunes of varying quality, but it's not the same as their trips out to Mars together. On these occasions she pretends she needs no rest, pretends she can get up before sunrise and stay out late into the night without it taking any toll on her, after all her work won't get done if she doesn't do it. But in spite of missing out on rest, she would not trade those times for anything. Sit and listen and maybe talk, things big and small, loud and quiet, important and trivial, real and hypothetical.
Nothing like this would ever escape Austria's notice, of course, but since she keeps up with her chores and only ever seems to be happier afterwards, he does not remark.
And so, at least for a little at a time she's free to go.