Re: N. Italy/Hungary - A Child for Warmth [2/3]
anonymous
May 12 2009, 17:05:58 UTC
((crap, html fail, sorry X_X))
That night when she slipped out of bed, long after Austria had retired, she headed not towards the border but merely to the garden out back. Everything, her face and the blanket around her shoulders and all the plants bordering the wide pond, was washed with blue moonlight. But she hugged the blanket, patterned on her old flag before the wedding, closer to herself and imagined its red, white, and green snapping brightly in the sunlight from a tall flagpole. Austria didn’t know she’d kept it, hidden at the back of one of her dresser drawers.
She knelt by the rocky edge of the pond and trailed two fingers in the water, watching the ripples escape her touch. What was she doing out here, she wondered, glancing out across the upset surface of the pond. Was there really nothing to be done about this at all?
At least it was nice and cool out here. The room she shared with Austria had always seemed so stuffy, but it was nice to feel a breeze on her face every once in a while, the way it lifted her hair slightly from her shoulders as if it were another person’s hands. She leaned against a larger rock by the edge of the water and let her eyes close. It would be an understatement to say that she hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep, but even now it seemed almost out of reach. Her mind kept turning to that time long ago when they had all been at Holy Roman Empire’s house, how simple those problems all seemed now in the face of something new. Really, what was a simple servant’s life, taking care of both Austria and Italy in different ways, compared to the troubles they were facing now...?
“Ve.”
Great, now she was starting to hear little Italy’s ubiquitous call, that silly nonsense word that seemed to sprout from his lips like tiny flower buds. It had been so long since she’d watched over him…was she that desperate for that time in her life again? Had things gotten that bad?
“Ve, what is Hungary doing out here all by herself?”
“Reminiscing,” she responded carelessly, as if talking to herself.
“Hmm? About what?”
The hands on her blanket-clad shoulders made her jump, and the upper half of her body whipped around to face Feliciano himself--the grown-up one, she reminded herself firmly, though really, really, he hadn’t changed all that much, deep down.
But when had he gotten so tall?
“I-Italy? What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he answered, squatting down beside her to tilt his head with a worried expression in her direction. In the moonlight, his bare shoulders glinted blue, too, and the white of his simple cotton pants held a soft azure glow.
“Me too,” she admitted, and smiled because he had always made her smile, even when he was doing something worrisome or bothering Austria or waiting (and waiting and waiting) for Holy Roman Empire... “But why did you come all the way out here?”
“I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” he said brightly.
“And he instinctively came back here,” she thought. “I’m glad you’re here though. Will you keep me company?”
“Of course!” When she opened her arms for him, Italy settled happily within her blanket-clad embrace.
“You’ve gotten so big I can hardly hold onto you anymore,” she murmured quietly, feeling inexplicably sad.
They laughed together, and his happy, sweet tone drowned out her quiet nostalgia.
“Ve, then perhaps I should hold onto Hungary instead.” Before she could react, his arms were about her shoulders instead of the other way around, and his embrace was so inviting that she gave in easily, holding him around his waist instead and squeezing him gently.
“Much better,” she agreed peaceably, smelling on him the pasta sauce and the olive oil and the spices he had been deprived of when they had last been so close. They held each other silently for a while, watching the rare breeze send minute waves up from the surface of the pond and rustle the soft, dark leaves on the trees across the way.
Re: N. Italy/Hungary - A Child for Warmth [3/3]
anonymous
May 12 2009, 17:06:52 UTC
“Hungary still carries her old flag with her,” Italy commented quietly, his eyes still on the water.
She stayed silent.
“Things are not alright with Austria?” he ventured, gently.
“Things are fine,” she consoled him vaguely, like she used to.
“Things are not fine if Hungary is pretending she is still by herself,” Italy asserted, squeezing her shoulder.
“Oh, all married couples have their problems, Italy,” she said, and tapped his hip gently.
“They do,” he agreed, “but they should talk about them, or they will grow worse.”
“And since when do you know so much about marriage?” She had meant to tease him, but her question sounded very bitter and angry, and it made even her wince. “Feli--”
But he held her close to quiet her and pressed her face into his shoulder so she couldn’t apologize. The blanket slipped from both their shoulders to pool around their hips.
“I might not know much about marriage, but I do know Hungary. And Austria,” he added, with the subtlest of points.
“Feliciano...”
He leaned down and kissed her temple gently before releasing his grip on her shoulders to pick the blanket back up.
“Ve...” Curiously, he spread the blanket out beside them and looked at it closely, then turned it sideways so its top was to the right. “It almost looks like my new flag, si?” he commented, smiling softly.
She smiled at him and nodded in agreement, running her fingertips over the green stripe that made her flag different than Austria’s. But yes, if you just ignored the shield in the middle of Italy’s flag...
“It does.”
They each took a corner and slung the blanket back around their shoulders in a warm, comfortable closeness that wasn’t, Hungary found, stuffy at all. And when Italy began singing softly in her ear--simple tunes, not like Austria’s more complex melodies, but folk songs, she realized--well, that was probably what made her decide to kiss him, a soft, experimental thing on the corner of his mouth. It quieted his singing, but it made his lips turn up into that sweet smile and his fingers curl in her long, tangled hair.
“Hungary must promise me she will speak to Austria tomorrow,” he whispered, his amber-brown eyes holding some kind of mesmerizing power over her.
“It’s a promise, Feliciano,” she told him, determined and forcible as she was with everything else.
“Then,” he said, “just for tonight, I will take care of Elizaveta instead of the other way around.”
Re: N. Italy/Hungary - A Child for Warmth [3/3]
anonymous
May 13 2009, 18:03:30 UTC
This is the sweetest thing I've read on this kink meme, no joke. Like, even sweeter than that Chibitalia one. I never thought of these two, but I really like their dynamic here, very calm and comforting.
Hungary is lucky to have someone who will listen. Thank you for writing this.
Re: N. Italy/Hungary - A Child for Warmth [3/3]
anonymous
May 13 2009, 23:27:22 UTC
Is it wrong of me to always have imagined the Austro-Hungarian marriage to have been like that?
I liked this a lot, but admittedly, I like a good many things with Italy doing something else than fanboying Germany. This was very sweet, and I actually enjoyed all aspects of it, from the not-quite-there union with Austria, the bits of Prussia, and of course - of Hungary herself and her dealing with her loneliness :)
That night when she slipped out of bed, long after Austria had retired, she headed not towards the border but merely to the garden out back. Everything, her face and the blanket around her shoulders and all the plants bordering the wide pond, was washed with blue moonlight. But she hugged the blanket, patterned on her old flag before the wedding, closer to herself and imagined its red, white, and green snapping brightly in the sunlight from a tall flagpole. Austria didn’t know she’d kept it, hidden at the back of one of her dresser drawers.
She knelt by the rocky edge of the pond and trailed two fingers in the water, watching the ripples escape her touch. What was she doing out here, she wondered, glancing out across the upset surface of the pond. Was there really nothing to be done about this at all?
At least it was nice and cool out here. The room she shared with Austria had always seemed so stuffy, but it was nice to feel a breeze on her face every once in a while, the way it lifted her hair slightly from her shoulders as if it were another person’s hands. She leaned against a larger rock by the edge of the water and let her eyes close. It would be an understatement to say that she hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep, but even now it seemed almost out of reach. Her mind kept turning to that time long ago when they had all been at Holy Roman Empire’s house, how simple those problems all seemed now in the face of something new. Really, what was a simple servant’s life, taking care of both Austria and Italy in different ways, compared to the troubles they were facing now...?
“Ve.”
Great, now she was starting to hear little Italy’s ubiquitous call, that silly nonsense word that seemed to sprout from his lips like tiny flower buds. It had been so long since she’d watched over him…was she that desperate for that time in her life again? Had things gotten that bad?
“Ve, what is Hungary doing out here all by herself?”
“Reminiscing,” she responded carelessly, as if talking to herself.
“Hmm? About what?”
The hands on her blanket-clad shoulders made her jump, and the upper half of her body whipped around to face Feliciano himself--the grown-up one, she reminded herself firmly, though really, really, he hadn’t changed all that much, deep down.
But when had he gotten so tall?
“I-Italy? What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he answered, squatting down beside her to tilt his head with a worried expression in her direction. In the moonlight, his bare shoulders glinted blue, too, and the white of his simple cotton pants held a soft azure glow.
“Me too,” she admitted, and smiled because he had always made her smile, even when he was doing something worrisome or bothering Austria or waiting (and waiting and waiting) for Holy Roman Empire... “But why did you come all the way out here?”
“I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” he said brightly.
“And he instinctively came back here,” she thought. “I’m glad you’re here though. Will you keep me company?”
“Of course!” When she opened her arms for him, Italy settled happily within her blanket-clad embrace.
“You’ve gotten so big I can hardly hold onto you anymore,” she murmured quietly, feeling inexplicably sad.
They laughed together, and his happy, sweet tone drowned out her quiet nostalgia.
“Ve, then perhaps I should hold onto Hungary instead.” Before she could react, his arms were about her shoulders instead of the other way around, and his embrace was so inviting that she gave in easily, holding him around his waist instead and squeezing him gently.
“Much better,” she agreed peaceably, smelling on him the pasta sauce and the olive oil and the spices he had been deprived of when they had last been so close. They held each other silently for a while, watching the rare breeze send minute waves up from the surface of the pond and rustle the soft, dark leaves on the trees across the way.
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She stayed silent.
“Things are not alright with Austria?” he ventured, gently.
“Things are fine,” she consoled him vaguely, like she used to.
“Things are not fine if Hungary is pretending she is still by herself,” Italy asserted, squeezing her shoulder.
“Oh, all married couples have their problems, Italy,” she said, and tapped his hip gently.
“They do,” he agreed, “but they should talk about them, or they will grow worse.”
“And since when do you know so much about marriage?” She had meant to tease him, but her question sounded very bitter and angry, and it made even her wince. “Feli--”
But he held her close to quiet her and pressed her face into his shoulder so she couldn’t apologize. The blanket slipped from both their shoulders to pool around their hips.
“I might not know much about marriage, but I do know Hungary. And Austria,” he added, with the subtlest of points.
“Feliciano...”
He leaned down and kissed her temple gently before releasing his grip on her shoulders to pick the blanket back up.
“Ve...” Curiously, he spread the blanket out beside them and looked at it closely, then turned it sideways so its top was to the right. “It almost looks like my new flag, si?” he commented, smiling softly.
She smiled at him and nodded in agreement, running her fingertips over the green stripe that made her flag different than Austria’s. But yes, if you just ignored the shield in the middle of Italy’s flag...
“It does.”
They each took a corner and slung the blanket back around their shoulders in a warm, comfortable closeness that wasn’t, Hungary found, stuffy at all. And when Italy began singing softly in her ear--simple tunes, not like Austria’s more complex melodies, but folk songs, she realized--well, that was probably what made her decide to kiss him, a soft, experimental thing on the corner of his mouth. It quieted his singing, but it made his lips turn up into that sweet smile and his fingers curl in her long, tangled hair.
“Hungary must promise me she will speak to Austria tomorrow,” he whispered, his amber-brown eyes holding some kind of mesmerizing power over her.
“It’s a promise, Feliciano,” she told him, determined and forcible as she was with everything else.
“Then,” he said, “just for tonight, I will take care of Elizaveta instead of the other way around.”
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Hungary is lucky to have someone who will listen. Thank you for writing this.
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I liked this a lot, but admittedly, I like a good many things with Italy doing something else than fanboying Germany. This was very sweet, and I actually enjoyed all aspects of it, from the not-quite-there union with Austria, the bits of Prussia, and of course - of Hungary herself and her dealing with her loneliness :)
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