(fanfiction) Duel
Title: Duel -- part 1
Characters/pairings: Hungary, Austria, Prussia; Austria/Hungary, Prussia/Hungary
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cross-dressing, eventual dueling, some making out and fondling, swearing, violence with a frying pan?
Summary: Request for qualapec : Austria is due to duel Prussia in the morning. Not particularly wanting to see her husband vivisected, Hungary forcibly takes his place.
(I should apologize though, I forgot the "husband" bit and set this before they were married. Also, pairing wasn't specified, so I went with what worked in my head.)
With a grin Hungary turned to the side, inspecting herself in the tall mirror. The sight was one that she had long ago hoped for, but had given up on with the onset of puberty. Centuries in skirts didn’t stop the trousers from feeling like a second skin, and even if the shirt had been made for a man, she found after some quick work it fit perfectly. She had spent quite some time strapping down her breasts, but it paid off as her chest was flat as a board - which was quite uncomfortable if she could be honest - and there was enough cloth left to wrap around her waist, hiding the womanly dip before her hips. Even pulled back she had to cut her hair a few inches shorter, but with that she was sure that it could be a man’s cut. With black boots and matching light-weight cloth armor on her torso and fighting arm, Hungary was satisfied with what she saw.
This was the Hungary that she had hoped to become when she was a small warrior waving a sword around. And even if she had comes to terms with her femininity, it was nice to live out that long passed dream.
Austria’s light groaning in his sleep brought her senses back to her, and she shook her head at how she had found herself here in the first place.
It had started just the day before. Well, if Hungary was honest with herself, it had been building up on itself for at least the last year; she wondered if it had gone on longer, and she just hadn’t been aware. Whatever it was, tensions between Austria and Prussia had been growing increasingly thick. With each argument it grew thicker, and it would cause the next argument to be bigger, louder, and growing ever closer to bloodshed.
Hungary didn’t know what the story behind their tension was. For whatever reason, whoever it was that started the argument would wait until she had left, and by the time she would return they would be beyond the topic and into their insults and threats of physical violence. She had initially thought it was Prussia that started their fights, as he always seemed to have a love of starting trouble. However, when she would whack him with her frying pan he would insist Austria started it, and somehow she was beginning to believe him.
Earlier that day, after bringing the two some tea and pastries Hungary had gone back to the kitchen, hoping to get started on washing the dishes. However it wasn’t even a minute before the sound of glass shattering echoed from the tearoom; she was certain now that it had to be that the initiator was waiting for her to leave. Hungary turned on the spot and raced down the hall, passing shell-shocked servants as she went. By the time she skidded into the room the silverware and food had all been swept off the table and replaced with palms holding up the two nations, each looking the other straight on.
It was silent, and that scared Hungary more than any prior fight.
Austria looked ready to kill; his jaw was clenched so tight it could have been nailed shut and it would be more likely to move; his brows were furrowed so closely they appeared to be knotting themselves together; even through his loose sleeves his muscles were visible as they were tensed to the point of shuddering.
And yet, in the face of this, Prussia smirked.
Finally Austria slammed his hand down on the table, and in a frighteningly quiet voice stated, “Tomorrow at dawn. Down by the pond.” With that he straightened up and promptly left the room. His hand gripped Hungary’s arm and pulled her out with him despite her surprised exclamations. With one last glance she saw Prussia grin at her, and she knew that look.
The nation was itching to make heads roll.
Literally.
Hungary certainly knew what was coming next. It was clear as day that Austria felt the other was threatening his honor, and had thus challenged him to a duel. The entire household was abuzz with the news. Soon thereafter she noted that Holy Roman Empire pulled him aside because, as young as he appeared, both Austria and Prussia lived in his house. It was clear he felt he needed to be informed of what was occurring. To Hungary’s disappointment, both the men were sure to keep their conversation from her prying ears.
And so despite the excitement of the day, Hungary was left with her usual maid duties. She washed dishes, dusted, and later made dinner. Perhaps it was out of spite, but with a victorious grin she slipped little Italy some pasta. The poor thing seemed to be overwhelmed by the events of the day, and the pasta seemed to be just what he needed. With a sniffle he raced to his bedroom to eat his prize before it was discovered.
Hungary wished she could have been just as easily soothed. With every passing moment Prussia’s dark grin flashed before her eyes, and grew progressively more worried. She didn’t know what was going on between the men now, but she did know that Prussia was out for Austria’s blood, and he would go to any lengths to get it.
Part of her wondered just why she cared so much. As pleasant as she acted, Hungary did begrudge Austria for his royalty and how they were placed as her own. At any given moment she could feel large portions of her people cursing them, and for that brief moment she wanted nothing more than to don her old armor and fight her way out of this house.
And yet - and perhaps this was the illusive human part of her speaking - she deeply cared for Austria the man. He was kind, a bit clumsy, always acting all proper and straight laced, and even if he had the body and temperament of a young man, there was a depth to him that occasionally Hungary was privy to. And, no matter how she wanted to deny it, she knew with each passing day she was coming to love the aristocratic prick.
She may have been best of friends with Prussia, but at that moment Hungary knew she had to stop him from harming her dear Austria.
No matter how strong Austria felt he was, time and again it was proven that Prussia was the stronger of the two. While it was true that he was strong enough to beat her, she had one advantage that Austria did not.
Prussia didn’t want to tear her to shreds.
The fact of the matter was that Prussia was most vicious when his bloodlust was running high. When he didn’t intend to bring about the other person’s demise both his skills and strength lessened, as if he had the ability but couldn’t be damned to use it.
It was quickly decided what she was going to do. Now all she had to hope for was that she could get Austria off guard so she could complete it. All that night she tossed and turned, planning out the minor details, and frankly having a bit too much fun in her scheming.
The sun was not even up when she crawled out from her bed wearing only her V-neck chemise and snuck through the house, praying that no one else saw her. She didn’t have to worry about unwanted advances, as Holy Roman Empire had outlawed any such thing as soon as she had arrived, but nevertheless she felt fairly exposed. The neckline was deep and the hem only reached her knees. But thinking about the reaction it would get more than made up for the possible consequence.
It seemed that God was on her side as she finally found herself in front of Austria’s door. After working as his maid for some odd years she knew his schedule like she knew the hours of the day. He always awoke at six in the morning, whether the sun was up at that time or not. This time of year it was not until closer to 7:30, so it was still very dark in the house. It was still another half an hour until he was supposed to wake up, but she guessed that he was probably too anxious to sleep, and was just laying in bed until the appointed time when he was supposed to get up. By coming now she wouldn’t wake him, but he wouldn’t be up and preparing for the day.
Slowly she pushed the door and looked in. It was brighter in the room, but only by a single candle by Austria’s bedside table. As expected he was flat on his back with his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling intently.
At least he was for a brief moment before noting the door was ajar; as soon as he noticed there was a face looking in he was bolt upright, his hand reaching out for his glasses. Quietly he hissed, “Who is it? Show yourself.”
After a moment to steady herself, Hungary pushed the door further and slid her frame through the gap before shutting it behind her. By this time Austria had his glasses on, but even through the frames she could see his eyes grow wide. His face flushed and his mouth fell open; it took a few seconds before he could stammer out, “H-Hungary! W-w-what are you d-doing here? And, uh, well, like this?” He made a hand motion to indicate her dress, or rather lack thereof.
Hungary felt a flush rise in her own face, and almost considered for a moment just escaping. She highly doubted the other nation would be forward enough to ask about it. But her eyes found themselves drawn to Austria’s figure, and it was more than enough proof that this was certainly something she wanted to go through with. He wore a simple nightshirt; it was likely an older one that he had recently outgrown in his nation’s increasing power as it was completely open at the neck and only hit about mid-thigh. As much as anyone may tease him about being a lazy aristocrat, the truth of the matter was the young man had done his share of fighting and was quite fit, and right now Hungary wanted desperately to touch those gorgeous thighs.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, sounding and appearing meek as she looked to the ground before glancing up at him. “I just couldn’t sleep because I was so worried, and I guess my mind was so muddled that I completely forgot my attire. I-I didn’t mean to appear this way.”
Austria considered her a moment before nodding very lightly and looking away, his flush visible even in the relatively dark bedroom. If there was one thing Hungary could pull off faking, it was meekness. One wouldn’t think such a strong-headed girl could, but on the contrary; because she wasn’t, when she acted it, people had nothing to compare it to, and thus believed it. There was a cough, and then he said, attempting to retain semblance of control, “I see. And what has you so worried?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Hungary returned, unable to stop herself from gawking a bit. By this point Austria stood as well, and while the hem of the shirt shifted down, the neck fell lower and revealed creamy white skin. It was all she could do to keep from reaching out and touching it. Instead she swallowed and pushed forward. “Austria, I don’t want you to fight with Prussia.”
The young man blinked before smiling just the slightest and shaking his head. “There is no need for you to worry about that--”
“Well maybe there is,” Hungary interrupted, finding herself glowering a bit. She could act like a lady, but she didn’t appreciate being dismissed as such. “Maybe I don’t want to see you hurt!”
This caused Austria’s face to drop a bit. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t plan on being injured.”
“You may not, but Prussia definitely does,” Hungary argued, and she knew her façade was dropping but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “I know that look he wore, Austria, and he is going to do all in his power to tear you to pieces--”
“I think I can handle him,” Austria replied sharply.
“But what if you can’t?” Hungary bit her lip and gripped the fabric of her chemise. “Are you seriously considering putting yourself in the way of his bloodlust over something as ridiculous as honor--”
“Yes, I am!” Austria hissed. He took a step forward and grabbed her upper arm, staring hard into her eyes. “How can I possibly just sit back and watch while he tries to sully the honor of someone that--”
The sharpness in his eyes faded and he stopped abruptly, as if suddenly realizing what he was saying. Austria gritted his teeth and glanced away. Hungary just blinked confusedly at him, trying to fill in the gap but finding she couldn’t. There was too much buzzing around her mind, and suddenly the bubbling of the blood in her veins reached her consciousness. “Why is it always about honor with you bastards? Sure, I may have never grown a dick, but at least I have a brain! At least I know that there’s more to life than throwing it away for goddamn honor!”
“Hungary-!”
“Have you ever considered that there may be more to live for than there is to die for?” she asked, unwittingly finding her hands clutching at the front of Austria’s chemise. “And, better yet, has it ever occurred to you that there are people in this world who would rather have you run away then to watch you be hurt to try to keep some semblance of pride?” Hungary spat at the last word as if it tasted rancid. She was surprised to find her hands trembling ever so slightly and upon noticing realized how they had lodged themselves against Austria’s chest. But even so her heart ached and her stomach turned angrily inside her.
Austria’s hand hovered in the periphery of her vision, as if wanting to touch her, to comfort her, but unsure of itself. The action was endearing nevertheless, and it made Hungary hurt all the more. She had never planned to become this emotional, but she couldn’t stop the flood now that it had broken through.
“Austria,” Hungary murmured, “has it ever passed your mind that I don’t want to watch you be hurt?”
This seemed to be the magic phrase as the hand not only touched but wrapped around her shoulder, pulling Hungary flush against Austria. The other hand that grasped her arm squeezed comfortingly. His warm breath danced across her ear and down her neck, and Hungary felt herself shiver.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he whispered and unconsciously held her tighter. Austria’s heat was burning her everywhere skin touched - cheeks hands necks collars knees - and it was all she could do to not beg for more; more words, more whispers, more breath on her skin, more skin on her skin. And Austria gave it with more murmured apologies and words of comfort against her skin, his lips occasionally brushing against her and Hungary moved her arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him even closer.
Austria stiffened ever so slightly with the brush of her breasts against his chest. Hungary watched with no little amount of amusement as his face flushed bright red as he suddenly became aware of their current physical predicament.
“We shouldn’t,” he stammered, gripping her arm tightly as if his body wasn’t sure whether to comply with his wishes or not. But Hungary was enamored with how his unmade hair brushed against his forehead, how clear his eyes were without the glasses, and the lovely color to his cheeks. Gently she brought her fingers up to push the bangs away and couldn’t help giggling ever so slightly when his eyes widened.
Hungary considered asking why or insisting they really should or just plain admitting she didn’t care. But it was all lost as she leaned up and took his lips, kissing him softly.
When she pulled back the two nations looked carefully at one another before Austria gave into their unsaid wishes and kissed her hard on the mouth, his self-imposed manners slipping away with the slipping of his tongue into her mouth, tasting her as he held her closer, harder. All inhibitions were long washed away with waves of emotions; embarrassment, fear, anger, confusion, frustration, outrage, lust.
Hungary can’t helping moaning against Austria’s lips, her fingers grasping and digging into his scalp, his shoulders, his back, down to wrap around his middle as his own nimble hands slid up her sides. They were cupping her breasts, fondling them cautiously, unsure of their actions, lead on only by her encouraging mewls.
It’s when Hungary smirked against his mouth and pushed Austria back against his bed, laughing as he kept a hold of her waist and pulled her with him, sprawled out on the bed, their chemises askew showing shoulders and thighs and chests, that reality slowly set in. Both panted heavily and ultimately it was Austria who threw his head back against his pillows with a mix of shame and frustration. “Hungary,” he rasped out, and both shudder at the sound, “we really shouldn’t.”
The girl sighed dejectedly, but still couldn’t remove the grin from her face. “I would end up falling for a perfect gentleman.”
“Everything you, my dear lady, are not.”
“Well, excuse me!” Hungary fired back, shaking her head at the smug look on his face before grabbing a pillow and smothering his face with it. The young man startled and flailed, throwing her off onto the other side of the bed and holding the pillow out of her reach. “What, you’re not going to retaliate?”
“As you said before,” Austria retorted, tilting his head away a bit and smirking at her, “I am a gentleman, and as such would never harm a lady.”
“So I’m a lady now?” Hungary pinned him with a sultry look, and was pleased to see that he at least had the decency to flush a bit at that. With an exasperated smile he nodded, leaning down to kiss her softly on the mouth.
“Yes.”
Austria laid back down on the other side of the bed, sighing heavily. Silence hung between them.
“Austria,” Hungary started, “as a gentleman who cares for his lady can’t you, just this once, do as I would like and not fight with Prussia.”
“Hungary…” Austria moaned, placing his hand over his eyes, exasperated. “I know you don’t understand, but it is because I care for you that I must.”
Hungary sighed before shifting, reaching down under the bed. “Then you can surely forgive me for what I’m about to do, because I too care for you and thus I must.” Austria didn’t have time to ask what she was talking about before there was a burst of pain, white appearing before his eyes before fading into the darkness as he lost consciousness.
The emergency frying pan that Hungary kept in the aristocrat’s room - one never knew where France could attack from next - was gently placed back where it belonged before Hungary got to her feet. She glanced at the now unconscious Austria laid out on the bed, and a twang of guilt did cross her mind. Quickly and carefully she moved him aside to pull the bed sheets up, wrapping them around his still form. Once his head was comfortably rested on some pillows, Hungary gently touched his head, feeling the lump that was growing them. Again, guilt hit her, but with a kiss to the poor nation’s aching head she righted herself, preparing to get dressed.
She stopped at the wardrobe, considered and reconsidered, before hurrying back, pulling back the sheets and eagerly peeked beneath Austria’s chemise.
Oh yes, he was definitely worth saving.
Now a bit flushed, Hungary tucked him back in and couldn’t help leaning forward to give him a soft kiss. Goodness only knew when the next time she would have a chance to would be when he awoke and found out what she had done.
She noted his lips moving slightly and felt her heart start to race as his voice wafted from his throat, tired but true.
“Elizabeta…”
Yes, she would do anything to protect him.
Notes:
--Time line is, if I recall my research correctly, early 16th or 17th century. I think 16th. Hungary is still it's own country, however it was under the Hapsburg empire (in part, some of Hungary was Ottoman territory). So they are not married, but she is his maid, and HRE is still around.
--The Holy Roman Empire, while not a country per say, was a kingdom that encompassed several other nations including Austria and Prussia-Brandenburg. So technically both Austria and Prussia are within HRE's kingdom, aka his house.
--Chemises were worn under clothes at the time, and were often used as nightwear. They're the billowy white-ish shirts you see in old-school stuff.
Characters/pairings: Hungary, Austria, Prussia; Austria/Hungary, Prussia/Hungary
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Cross-dressing, eventual dueling, some making out and fondling, swearing, violence with a frying pan?
Summary: Request for qualapec : Austria is due to duel Prussia in the morning. Not particularly wanting to see her husband vivisected, Hungary forcibly takes his place.
(I should apologize though, I forgot the "husband" bit and set this before they were married. Also, pairing wasn't specified, so I went with what worked in my head.)
With a grin Hungary turned to the side, inspecting herself in the tall mirror. The sight was one that she had long ago hoped for, but had given up on with the onset of puberty. Centuries in skirts didn’t stop the trousers from feeling like a second skin, and even if the shirt had been made for a man, she found after some quick work it fit perfectly. She had spent quite some time strapping down her breasts, but it paid off as her chest was flat as a board - which was quite uncomfortable if she could be honest - and there was enough cloth left to wrap around her waist, hiding the womanly dip before her hips. Even pulled back she had to cut her hair a few inches shorter, but with that she was sure that it could be a man’s cut. With black boots and matching light-weight cloth armor on her torso and fighting arm, Hungary was satisfied with what she saw.
This was the Hungary that she had hoped to become when she was a small warrior waving a sword around. And even if she had comes to terms with her femininity, it was nice to live out that long passed dream.
Austria’s light groaning in his sleep brought her senses back to her, and she shook her head at how she had found herself here in the first place.
It had started just the day before. Well, if Hungary was honest with herself, it had been building up on itself for at least the last year; she wondered if it had gone on longer, and she just hadn’t been aware. Whatever it was, tensions between Austria and Prussia had been growing increasingly thick. With each argument it grew thicker, and it would cause the next argument to be bigger, louder, and growing ever closer to bloodshed.
Hungary didn’t know what the story behind their tension was. For whatever reason, whoever it was that started the argument would wait until she had left, and by the time she would return they would be beyond the topic and into their insults and threats of physical violence. She had initially thought it was Prussia that started their fights, as he always seemed to have a love of starting trouble. However, when she would whack him with her frying pan he would insist Austria started it, and somehow she was beginning to believe him.
Earlier that day, after bringing the two some tea and pastries Hungary had gone back to the kitchen, hoping to get started on washing the dishes. However it wasn’t even a minute before the sound of glass shattering echoed from the tearoom; she was certain now that it had to be that the initiator was waiting for her to leave. Hungary turned on the spot and raced down the hall, passing shell-shocked servants as she went. By the time she skidded into the room the silverware and food had all been swept off the table and replaced with palms holding up the two nations, each looking the other straight on.
It was silent, and that scared Hungary more than any prior fight.
Austria looked ready to kill; his jaw was clenched so tight it could have been nailed shut and it would be more likely to move; his brows were furrowed so closely they appeared to be knotting themselves together; even through his loose sleeves his muscles were visible as they were tensed to the point of shuddering.
And yet, in the face of this, Prussia smirked.
Finally Austria slammed his hand down on the table, and in a frighteningly quiet voice stated, “Tomorrow at dawn. Down by the pond.” With that he straightened up and promptly left the room. His hand gripped Hungary’s arm and pulled her out with him despite her surprised exclamations. With one last glance she saw Prussia grin at her, and she knew that look.
The nation was itching to make heads roll.
Literally.
Hungary certainly knew what was coming next. It was clear as day that Austria felt the other was threatening his honor, and had thus challenged him to a duel. The entire household was abuzz with the news. Soon thereafter she noted that Holy Roman Empire pulled him aside because, as young as he appeared, both Austria and Prussia lived in his house. It was clear he felt he needed to be informed of what was occurring. To Hungary’s disappointment, both the men were sure to keep their conversation from her prying ears.
And so despite the excitement of the day, Hungary was left with her usual maid duties. She washed dishes, dusted, and later made dinner. Perhaps it was out of spite, but with a victorious grin she slipped little Italy some pasta. The poor thing seemed to be overwhelmed by the events of the day, and the pasta seemed to be just what he needed. With a sniffle he raced to his bedroom to eat his prize before it was discovered.
Hungary wished she could have been just as easily soothed. With every passing moment Prussia’s dark grin flashed before her eyes, and grew progressively more worried. She didn’t know what was going on between the men now, but she did know that Prussia was out for Austria’s blood, and he would go to any lengths to get it.
Part of her wondered just why she cared so much. As pleasant as she acted, Hungary did begrudge Austria for his royalty and how they were placed as her own. At any given moment she could feel large portions of her people cursing them, and for that brief moment she wanted nothing more than to don her old armor and fight her way out of this house.
And yet - and perhaps this was the illusive human part of her speaking - she deeply cared for Austria the man. He was kind, a bit clumsy, always acting all proper and straight laced, and even if he had the body and temperament of a young man, there was a depth to him that occasionally Hungary was privy to. And, no matter how she wanted to deny it, she knew with each passing day she was coming to love the aristocratic prick.
She may have been best of friends with Prussia, but at that moment Hungary knew she had to stop him from harming her dear Austria.
No matter how strong Austria felt he was, time and again it was proven that Prussia was the stronger of the two. While it was true that he was strong enough to beat her, she had one advantage that Austria did not.
Prussia didn’t want to tear her to shreds.
The fact of the matter was that Prussia was most vicious when his bloodlust was running high. When he didn’t intend to bring about the other person’s demise both his skills and strength lessened, as if he had the ability but couldn’t be damned to use it.
It was quickly decided what she was going to do. Now all she had to hope for was that she could get Austria off guard so she could complete it. All that night she tossed and turned, planning out the minor details, and frankly having a bit too much fun in her scheming.
The sun was not even up when she crawled out from her bed wearing only her V-neck chemise and snuck through the house, praying that no one else saw her. She didn’t have to worry about unwanted advances, as Holy Roman Empire had outlawed any such thing as soon as she had arrived, but nevertheless she felt fairly exposed. The neckline was deep and the hem only reached her knees. But thinking about the reaction it would get more than made up for the possible consequence.
It seemed that God was on her side as she finally found herself in front of Austria’s door. After working as his maid for some odd years she knew his schedule like she knew the hours of the day. He always awoke at six in the morning, whether the sun was up at that time or not. This time of year it was not until closer to 7:30, so it was still very dark in the house. It was still another half an hour until he was supposed to wake up, but she guessed that he was probably too anxious to sleep, and was just laying in bed until the appointed time when he was supposed to get up. By coming now she wouldn’t wake him, but he wouldn’t be up and preparing for the day.
Slowly she pushed the door and looked in. It was brighter in the room, but only by a single candle by Austria’s bedside table. As expected he was flat on his back with his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling intently.
At least he was for a brief moment before noting the door was ajar; as soon as he noticed there was a face looking in he was bolt upright, his hand reaching out for his glasses. Quietly he hissed, “Who is it? Show yourself.”
After a moment to steady herself, Hungary pushed the door further and slid her frame through the gap before shutting it behind her. By this time Austria had his glasses on, but even through the frames she could see his eyes grow wide. His face flushed and his mouth fell open; it took a few seconds before he could stammer out, “H-Hungary! W-w-what are you d-doing here? And, uh, well, like this?” He made a hand motion to indicate her dress, or rather lack thereof.
Hungary felt a flush rise in her own face, and almost considered for a moment just escaping. She highly doubted the other nation would be forward enough to ask about it. But her eyes found themselves drawn to Austria’s figure, and it was more than enough proof that this was certainly something she wanted to go through with. He wore a simple nightshirt; it was likely an older one that he had recently outgrown in his nation’s increasing power as it was completely open at the neck and only hit about mid-thigh. As much as anyone may tease him about being a lazy aristocrat, the truth of the matter was the young man had done his share of fighting and was quite fit, and right now Hungary wanted desperately to touch those gorgeous thighs.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, sounding and appearing meek as she looked to the ground before glancing up at him. “I just couldn’t sleep because I was so worried, and I guess my mind was so muddled that I completely forgot my attire. I-I didn’t mean to appear this way.”
Austria considered her a moment before nodding very lightly and looking away, his flush visible even in the relatively dark bedroom. If there was one thing Hungary could pull off faking, it was meekness. One wouldn’t think such a strong-headed girl could, but on the contrary; because she wasn’t, when she acted it, people had nothing to compare it to, and thus believed it. There was a cough, and then he said, attempting to retain semblance of control, “I see. And what has you so worried?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Hungary returned, unable to stop herself from gawking a bit. By this point Austria stood as well, and while the hem of the shirt shifted down, the neck fell lower and revealed creamy white skin. It was all she could do to keep from reaching out and touching it. Instead she swallowed and pushed forward. “Austria, I don’t want you to fight with Prussia.”
The young man blinked before smiling just the slightest and shaking his head. “There is no need for you to worry about that--”
“Well maybe there is,” Hungary interrupted, finding herself glowering a bit. She could act like a lady, but she didn’t appreciate being dismissed as such. “Maybe I don’t want to see you hurt!”
This caused Austria’s face to drop a bit. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t plan on being injured.”
“You may not, but Prussia definitely does,” Hungary argued, and she knew her façade was dropping but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “I know that look he wore, Austria, and he is going to do all in his power to tear you to pieces--”
“I think I can handle him,” Austria replied sharply.
“But what if you can’t?” Hungary bit her lip and gripped the fabric of her chemise. “Are you seriously considering putting yourself in the way of his bloodlust over something as ridiculous as honor--”
“Yes, I am!” Austria hissed. He took a step forward and grabbed her upper arm, staring hard into her eyes. “How can I possibly just sit back and watch while he tries to sully the honor of someone that--”
The sharpness in his eyes faded and he stopped abruptly, as if suddenly realizing what he was saying. Austria gritted his teeth and glanced away. Hungary just blinked confusedly at him, trying to fill in the gap but finding she couldn’t. There was too much buzzing around her mind, and suddenly the bubbling of the blood in her veins reached her consciousness. “Why is it always about honor with you bastards? Sure, I may have never grown a dick, but at least I have a brain! At least I know that there’s more to life than throwing it away for goddamn honor!”
“Hungary-!”
“Have you ever considered that there may be more to live for than there is to die for?” she asked, unwittingly finding her hands clutching at the front of Austria’s chemise. “And, better yet, has it ever occurred to you that there are people in this world who would rather have you run away then to watch you be hurt to try to keep some semblance of pride?” Hungary spat at the last word as if it tasted rancid. She was surprised to find her hands trembling ever so slightly and upon noticing realized how they had lodged themselves against Austria’s chest. But even so her heart ached and her stomach turned angrily inside her.
Austria’s hand hovered in the periphery of her vision, as if wanting to touch her, to comfort her, but unsure of itself. The action was endearing nevertheless, and it made Hungary hurt all the more. She had never planned to become this emotional, but she couldn’t stop the flood now that it had broken through.
“Austria,” Hungary murmured, “has it ever passed your mind that I don’t want to watch you be hurt?”
This seemed to be the magic phrase as the hand not only touched but wrapped around her shoulder, pulling Hungary flush against Austria. The other hand that grasped her arm squeezed comfortingly. His warm breath danced across her ear and down her neck, and Hungary felt herself shiver.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he whispered and unconsciously held her tighter. Austria’s heat was burning her everywhere skin touched - cheeks hands necks collars knees - and it was all she could do to not beg for more; more words, more whispers, more breath on her skin, more skin on her skin. And Austria gave it with more murmured apologies and words of comfort against her skin, his lips occasionally brushing against her and Hungary moved her arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him even closer.
Austria stiffened ever so slightly with the brush of her breasts against his chest. Hungary watched with no little amount of amusement as his face flushed bright red as he suddenly became aware of their current physical predicament.
“We shouldn’t,” he stammered, gripping her arm tightly as if his body wasn’t sure whether to comply with his wishes or not. But Hungary was enamored with how his unmade hair brushed against his forehead, how clear his eyes were without the glasses, and the lovely color to his cheeks. Gently she brought her fingers up to push the bangs away and couldn’t help giggling ever so slightly when his eyes widened.
Hungary considered asking why or insisting they really should or just plain admitting she didn’t care. But it was all lost as she leaned up and took his lips, kissing him softly.
When she pulled back the two nations looked carefully at one another before Austria gave into their unsaid wishes and kissed her hard on the mouth, his self-imposed manners slipping away with the slipping of his tongue into her mouth, tasting her as he held her closer, harder. All inhibitions were long washed away with waves of emotions; embarrassment, fear, anger, confusion, frustration, outrage, lust.
Hungary can’t helping moaning against Austria’s lips, her fingers grasping and digging into his scalp, his shoulders, his back, down to wrap around his middle as his own nimble hands slid up her sides. They were cupping her breasts, fondling them cautiously, unsure of their actions, lead on only by her encouraging mewls.
It’s when Hungary smirked against his mouth and pushed Austria back against his bed, laughing as he kept a hold of her waist and pulled her with him, sprawled out on the bed, their chemises askew showing shoulders and thighs and chests, that reality slowly set in. Both panted heavily and ultimately it was Austria who threw his head back against his pillows with a mix of shame and frustration. “Hungary,” he rasped out, and both shudder at the sound, “we really shouldn’t.”
The girl sighed dejectedly, but still couldn’t remove the grin from her face. “I would end up falling for a perfect gentleman.”
“Everything you, my dear lady, are not.”
“Well, excuse me!” Hungary fired back, shaking her head at the smug look on his face before grabbing a pillow and smothering his face with it. The young man startled and flailed, throwing her off onto the other side of the bed and holding the pillow out of her reach. “What, you’re not going to retaliate?”
“As you said before,” Austria retorted, tilting his head away a bit and smirking at her, “I am a gentleman, and as such would never harm a lady.”
“So I’m a lady now?” Hungary pinned him with a sultry look, and was pleased to see that he at least had the decency to flush a bit at that. With an exasperated smile he nodded, leaning down to kiss her softly on the mouth.
“Yes.”
Austria laid back down on the other side of the bed, sighing heavily. Silence hung between them.
“Austria,” Hungary started, “as a gentleman who cares for his lady can’t you, just this once, do as I would like and not fight with Prussia.”
“Hungary…” Austria moaned, placing his hand over his eyes, exasperated. “I know you don’t understand, but it is because I care for you that I must.”
Hungary sighed before shifting, reaching down under the bed. “Then you can surely forgive me for what I’m about to do, because I too care for you and thus I must.” Austria didn’t have time to ask what she was talking about before there was a burst of pain, white appearing before his eyes before fading into the darkness as he lost consciousness.
The emergency frying pan that Hungary kept in the aristocrat’s room - one never knew where France could attack from next - was gently placed back where it belonged before Hungary got to her feet. She glanced at the now unconscious Austria laid out on the bed, and a twang of guilt did cross her mind. Quickly and carefully she moved him aside to pull the bed sheets up, wrapping them around his still form. Once his head was comfortably rested on some pillows, Hungary gently touched his head, feeling the lump that was growing them. Again, guilt hit her, but with a kiss to the poor nation’s aching head she righted herself, preparing to get dressed.
She stopped at the wardrobe, considered and reconsidered, before hurrying back, pulling back the sheets and eagerly peeked beneath Austria’s chemise.
Oh yes, he was definitely worth saving.
Now a bit flushed, Hungary tucked him back in and couldn’t help leaning forward to give him a soft kiss. Goodness only knew when the next time she would have a chance to would be when he awoke and found out what she had done.
She noted his lips moving slightly and felt her heart start to race as his voice wafted from his throat, tired but true.
“Elizabeta…”
Yes, she would do anything to protect him.
Notes:
--Time line is, if I recall my research correctly, early 16th or 17th century. I think 16th. Hungary is still it's own country, however it was under the Hapsburg empire (in part, some of Hungary was Ottoman territory). So they are not married, but she is his maid, and HRE is still around.
--The Holy Roman Empire, while not a country per say, was a kingdom that encompassed several other nations including Austria and Prussia-Brandenburg. So technically both Austria and Prussia are within HRE's kingdom, aka his house.
--Chemises were worn under clothes at the time, and were often used as nightwear. They're the billowy white-ish shirts you see in old-school stuff.