Fic: Five Times Hungary, Austria And Prussia Tried To Have A Threesome, Part One (Hetalia)
Title: Five Times Hungary, Austria And Prussia Tried To Have A Threesome (And One Time They Actually Did)
Rating: M
Warnings: none
Summary: Prussia puts a spanner in the works. Repeatedly.
Note: Thank you to puddingcat for her beta and to rheasilvia for her help too! Historical notes at the end of part two.
For wizzard890 - get well soon!
1212
Hungary and Austria were fighting again, and Austria was getting the worst of it as usual. His knees were skinned and he had the beginnings of a black eye, and his stupid, prissy glasses were lying in the dust. The German Order picked them up and put them on, squinting at how wavy the world had become. Austria must always have a headache from these things, he thought, deciding it would explain a lot about his attitude.
"Hi, Hungary," he said.
"Hi," Hungary said breathlessly, and knocked Austria over to lie on his back, whimpering.
"I can't see," Austria said.
"That's because the new boy has your glasses."
"I'm not the new boy. I'm the Order -"
" - Of the German house of St Mary in Jerusalem," Hungary finished in a mocking tone. "Or "Mary" for short," he added, pulling Austria back to his feet.
"My glasses, please," Austria said, holding out a grubby, plump hand. "Mary."
The German Order narrowed his eyes and winced as the world got wavier. He took off the glasses and held them out. "Here you go," he said. "You'll need them to spot Switzerland when he shows up to save your ass. Again."
Austria muttered something about not needing Switzerland or anyone's help, and then he turned his back and sat down, ignoring them both. Hungary rolled his eyes and prodded him with one foot.
"Stop sulking. It's too hot to fight any more. Who wants to go and swim in the Danube?"
"In my bit of it?" Austria said hopefully.
"No, idiot, my bit."
"I don't like your bit," Austria said, snootily.
"Well, I don't have a bit of it, so it's a rubbish river, and would encourage vanity and despair anyway, which would be a cause of sin for you two losers," the German Order said. Hungary raised his eyebrows.
"How so?"
"You'd think you were good looking, which would be vanity, till you saw real perfection," he said, modestly indicating himself. "And then you'd despair."
"Sounds like someone's suffering from vanity all right," Austria sniffed from the ground.
"It's not vanity if you really are perfect," the German Order grinned, and sat beside him. "Finished sulking yet?"
"I'm not sulking!"
"Whatever. Do those things really help you to see?"
Austria gave him a look like he was the stupidest boy in Christendom. "Yes," he said. "They help me see."
"Swimming would also give you strange ideas," the German Order said. "You'd probably want to touch my willy."
"I'd need stronger glasses just to see it," Austria said with a nasty little smile that begged to be punched off his face.
"Have you ever touched another boy's willy?" Hungary said, interrupting the proceedings just as the German Order had Austria by the throat.
"No," he said. "Why would I want to?"
"Me neither," Austria croaked.
"Haven't you noticed that most nations' people are very keen on all sorts of willy-touching?" Hungary said. "It must have something going for it."
There was a contemplative pause. Then,
"Would you like to touch mine?" Austria said. "I could touch yours -"
Hungary went rather pink for someone who'd brought the conversation to this point. "Oh. Um, well, I'm sort of a late developer -"
The German Order dropped Austria back in the dust in disgust. He wasn't used to being ignored quite so much by people he was actually fighting. He was also just unused to being ignored. "There are three of us here, you know," he said.
"That's all right, each person could touch the other two," Austria said, getting to his knees and drawing a little plan in the dust that showed he had been giving all of this far too much thought, in the German Order's opinion.
"That's quite clever," Hungary said, looking at the sketch. "You're a lot better at art than at fighting."
"I'm sensitive," Austria said, his cheeks going red from the praise. "What do you think?" he added, turning to the German Order.
"I think you're an idiot," he said automatically, and paused. Hungary and Austria kept looking at the unfortunately detailed sketch and back at each other with a sort of intrigued expression. They were leaving him out again, which wasn't fair, because he had to admit he was sort of intrigued as well. "Fine, let's do it," he said, and unbuckled his sword belt. "Come on, armour off, everybody, no one wants cuts and bruises there, do they?"
Austria's sword belt hit the ground, swiftly followed by Austria's tabard, more clumsily followed by Austria trying to find where his glasses had sailed off to. Hungary unbuckled his sword belt more slowly, looking shy.
"I don't want you laughing, just because you're developing faster than me," he said. "If you do, I'll beat you up."
"Pfffft," the German Order said. "C'mon, we're all boys here."
Hungary grinned, a blindingly wide smile that made the German Order feel very much more intrigued. "Yeah," he said, and started undoing his armour.
The German Order had always been more inclined to action than to deep, probing thought; as far as he was concerned, that was what other orders were for. Still, as he looked at his tabard, dropped down in a messy heap, the sight of the black cross stark against the white caught his eye. Vanity and despair were among the big sins, he thought, but other things were sins too, and led into the deadly ones. Now he thought about it, this plan seemed to have something to do with lust. He'd heard sermon after sermon about occasions of sin, and people being led astray by their carnal desires, which often, on casting his mind back, had an element of willy-touching somewhere in the mix.
"Guys?" he said. "Do you think this might be an abomination before the Lord?"
"Huh?" Hungary said, struggling out of his tunic and standing there in shirt and hose.
"Shut up," Austria said.
"It's just - well, I had to learn the entire Bible off, and do you think this counts as fornication? Or as polluting yourself with mankind? Or just yourself? They're all on the list -"
"Shut. Up," Austria said again.
"No, he's right," Hungary said, looking both relieved and disappointed. "Maybe we shouldn't. We should ask someone older for advice."
"I'm not asking France anything," Austria muttered.
The German Order nodded firmly. That was something they were in complete agreement on. He sighed as Hungary swiped up his tunic again and pulled it over his head. He had successfully resisted temptation and saved other people from sinning too, which should have felt more like a triumph than it did.
"What now?" he asked, getting as neatly back into his own clothes and armour as he could without help.
"You could come to my king's house for dinner," Hungary said cheerfully, and sauntered off, obviously expecting them both to follow.
Austria just carried his scabbarded sword and his sword belt in his hand, not even having the self-respect to put them back on, not matter how much the German Order sneered at him.
"I'm going to get you back for this," he said, sounding for once like a soldier rather than a stuck-up lah-di-dah. "You'd better watch out, new boy."
"My name's not "new boy"," the German Order said and shoved him, then ran after Hungary, Austria on his heels all the way.
* * *
1240
"That's a cool sword," Hungary said, popping another slice of apple in his mouth and nodding to the corner where the German Order had stacked his belongings. "Where'd you steal it?"
"I didn't steal it," the German Order said, annexing as many pillows as he could. "It's a legitimate spoil of war. I took it from Russia - he cried like a big crybaby." It was only a little fib, he thought, and he'd be sure to confess it later. Russia had really just smiled a creepy smile and told him to take care of it because he'd come and take it back eventually and then asked him to come and visit him at Lake Peipus. The German Order thought he might take a few thousand of his friends along with him when he went.
"What about this?" Austria asked from his other side, picking up the knife with which the German Order had sliced the apples. It had a smooth bone handle, covered with carvings of strange beasts, and a bright amber bead embedded in the centre of the bone.
"Took it from Lithuania on my way to Russia," the German Order said. "It's too nice for a heathen - he can eat with something plainer. I took this -" he fished a cross made from a large piece of amber out from under the neck of his shirt, "- on the way back. It had some sort of pagan idol on it, but I had it carved down and made into a cross. He actually cried when I showed it to him later." That wasn't a fib, and was one of his most amusing memories.
Hungary rolled over onto his stomach, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Does anyone want more sweets?" he asked, pulling the bowl of candied fruits into the centre of the bed, rummaging till he found what he wanted. "Look, this is sugar," he said proudly. "My king bought lots, and said I could have as much as I wanted."
Austria took a small piece of the unappetising-looking stuff and crunched it up. "That's just too sweet," he said, grimacing. "I don't see it ever becoming popular."
"It's far too expensive," Hungary said. "I sort of wish all my people could have a little bit, though. What about you?"
The German Order shook his head. "Good, plain food and not enough of it to be gluttonous, that's what my Grand Masters say. I wouldn't like it at all - unless it has some medicinal qualities? I am a hospitaller order."
"More like an order for putting people in hospital," Austria said and giggled at his own wit. "Hungary, why did you invite this lout to your slumber party?"
"The question is why'd he invite you?" the German Order grumbled. "Hungary and me get on all right. You're the enemy here."
"I'm not your enemy," Austria said, his face saying he was spoiling for a fight. It looked pretty funny; he'd gone from plump and round-cheeked to skinny and angular, and still looked nothing like a soldier.
"Maybe not, but you're Hungary's!"
"Calm down," Hungary said. "I just wanted some peace and goodwill and not to have to fight over Christmas. We're all going to have a nice time and not argue, all right? This is nothing to do with the Holy Roman Empire." He nudged Austria firmly. "Right?"
"It's long past his bedtime anyway," Austria mumbled. "Honestly, I end up running things half the time because he's too sleepy. I should just take everything over officially."
"No politics," Hungary said. He poked the German Order in the side. "And no gloating about how much better you are than miserable sinners."
"It's not a matter of gloating - " the German Order started. "Ow!" He rubbed his side where Hungary had poked him again rather more vigorously. "No politics, no religion," he said more meekly.
"Good," Hungary said, and rolled over him to lie wedged between him and Austria. "I think I'm a bit tipsy," he laughed. "What about you two?"
"I barely had two pints of hippocras," the German Order said, the wine and the sweets settling nicely in him to make him warm and sleepy. "I'm made of -" he yawned, "- sterner stuff than you."
"Civilised nations don't live by stolen beer alone," Austria said, snuggling into the quilt. "Does your room always spin, Hungary?" He drew a sharp breath then, and said nothing else.
The German Order wondered if he should bother turning his head to see what was up with Austria, then his eyes widened, and he wondered if he should instead maybe turn his head to see if he was imagining that someone was stroking his thigh. He peered to his left and saw that Hungary was smiling slightly up at the hangings of the bed. His hand was very definitely on the German Order's thigh, stroking little circles that felt more and more obvious, though the pressure remained light and even. He lifted his head further and looked at Austria, whose face was pressed into the pillows, only one eye visible, wide and shocked like a scared rabbit. The German Order sat up awkwardly and noted that Hungary's other hand was on Austria's ass, which would explain that.
"I've been thinking," Hungary said. "Do you remember a day when we were smaller, and it was really hot and I'd been fighting Austria-"
"Yes," Austria said, and he didn't sound like a scared rabbit. More like a mildly intimidated kitten, the German Order thought. "Whatever you're going to say next, the answer's yes, Hungary."
"Good," Hungary said, and took his hand off the German Order's leg so he could turn over and stroke Austria's face. "Oh, good, you've already taken your glasses off." He kissed Austria's cheek, and Austria made a strange squeaking noise, and sat up, fast. Before Hungary could do much more than blink in tipsy surprise Austria wrapped his arms round him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
"Er -" the German Order said, wondering how a march had been stolen on him and who exactly was stealing it. "What -" Hungary wriggled out of Austria's embrace and kissed him as well, his lips sticky-sweet with the sugar and fruits they'd been eating. "Oh," he said in wonder as Hungary was pulled back by Austria.
"He can't even formulate sentences. Kiss me," Austria said, following this up with another sloppy kiss to Hungary's mouth and - as the German Order was a little belatedly outraged to see - a sneaky hand cupping Hungary's ass.
It wasn't that the German Order thought Hungary minded - it was quite clear he didn't, what with the way he squished closer to Austria and made a very interesting sound into his mouth, which made Austria make an interesting sound, which made the German Order feel rather lonely and left out.
"Hey," he said uncomfortably, "I'm right here -"
"Feel free to leave," Austria said, taking a brief moment away from his kissing practice.
"You can't just - you can't take advantage of our host like this!" the German Order said, kneeling up and getting ready to defend Hungary's honour whether he wanted it or not.
"May I?" Austria said to Hungary, who nodded enthusiastically. "It seems I can," he said smugly. "Get lost. I wouldn't want to be an occasion for sin for you."
"Bastard," the German Order said, wondering how best to punch him without punching Hungary as well.
Hungary sat up straight and pinched them both on the inner thigh. While they were blinking back tears of pain he crossed his arms in irritation. "No fighting! We are all going to be nice to each other. It's Christmas, so we have to show each other peace and goodwill. Or so help me, I'll make you both very sorry. Understand?"
"Yes, Hungary," they chorused meekly.
"Well, then -" he kissed the German Order again, stroking fingers over his inner thigh in a way that felt a lot nicer than the pinch had been.
"I'm just trying to help him keep his vows," Austria said. "Which I seem to remember were important to him the last time we were all together."
"Will you have to do a lot of penance?" Hungary whispered, kissing the tip of the German Order's nose as he nodded. "Do you mind that?"
He shook his head and kissed him with no expertise but a lot of eager enthusiasm. He'd never really given things like lust much thought, other than to be glad he wasn't a human with their odd urges, but he found himself willing to reconsider. Hungary's lips were soft, and Hungary's clever idea of opening his mouth and putting his tongue between the German Order's lips was really the most astonishing thing he'd experienced in a long time. He took a leaf out of Austria's book, running a hand over Hungary's ass, and slapping Austria's hand away as he did so.
"Don't be so greedy," Austria said, and plastered himself up against Hungary from behind, kissing the back of his neck, and slipping his hands round to the front. "Um," he said, sounding puzzled, as he rested a hand on Hungary's chest. "Hungary?"
"Yes?" Hungary said, wriggling back against him, and all questions very clearly left Austria's mind.
"You should do some training for your shoulders and chest," the German Order said, trying to dislodge Austria's hand from Hungary. "You're a bit weak and flabby."
"Less criticism, more kissing," Hungary said, and ducked aside as they both tried to obey. "Kiss each other, you two."
They glared at each other and then reluctantly leant in and kissed each other on the cheek, like they were making a treaty they had every intention of breaking.
"Kiss properly! We're all going to be nice to each other, remember?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Austria muttered, and then spluttered as the German Order grabbed him and stuck his tongue in his mouth. After a brief struggle they settled into a not unpleasant kiss that left them both panting when they drew apart.
"That was nice," Hungary said, bright-eyed. "Do that again!"
It was easier to fit in with Austria's gangly arms and sharp elbows this time, and the German Order had to admit - privately at least - that all that book-reading seemed to have given him some interesting ideas on the theory of kissing and copping a feel. He wasn't sure if it was a victory or a loss that Austria's hand ended up in his crotch before his did in Austria's; either way it was something he had no objections to, he decided.
"Maybe we should take our clothes off," Austria said, his voice hoarse.
"Good idea," Hungary said, his voice going higher with anticipation. "You're not to laugh at me, I'm still a sort of late developer."
"Don't worry," the German Order said, pulling his shirt over his head and breaking the laces in the process. What was a lack of body hair and an unbroken voice between friends, after all? He kicked off his hose and pulled Austria free of his. The lah-di-dah didn't look too bad out of his clothes, he thought. He must do some sword training along with the reading and lute playing. Austria looked down his nose at him, and the German Order belatedly realised he was just straining to make things come clear in his vision. In a rare moment of empathy he leant in to kiss him, stroking a hand through his hair. "You're not as weedy as you seem," he said.
"Thanks," Austria said. "I think."
They turned to Hungary and froze. Hungary smiled nervously at them, a little shy.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Austria turned to the German Order. "Don't say it," he said. "Don't say anything, for the love of Christ."
The German Order stayed staring at Hungary, at the small but very obvious breasts, the slim waist that suddenly didn't look at all like a boy's skinniness and at - his eyes drifted lower in fascination - at -
"You're a girl," he said in wonder.
"Jesus!" Austria snapped. "What did I just say?"
"No, I'm not," Hungary said. "I'm a boy. I told you, I'm a late developer."
"You look pretty developed to me," the German Order said. "Not that I spend time hanging out with naked girls," he added quickly. "I've got far higher moral standards than that."
Hungary's face was looking stormy and petulant. "I. Am. A. Boy," she said. "Austria? Tell him I'm a boy."
"He's short-sighted, not blind," the German Order said, and leant across to retrieve Austria's glasses from under the pillows. He opened the little box and jammed them onto Austria's nose. "Does that look like a boy to you?"
"Don't kill us," Austria said, which wasn't really an answer, but then the German Order saw that Hungary had leapt off the bed and picked up the sword he'd taken from Russia.
"Uh-oh," he said.
Ten minutes later, as they stood outside, naked and shivering in the snow, Hungary opened her shutters and tossed all their belongings out to land clattering around them. They dressed in cold, wet silence and trudged out of the courtyard.
"A few minutes more," Austria said in sudden fury, "you couldn't keep quiet for a few minutes more?"
"Oh, yeah? What do you think she'd have done if we'd done it and then said, By the way, you're a girl? We'd all be missing . . . bits."
Austria gave him a dirty look and stalked off towards Vienna. The German Order cast one longing look back at Hungary's window, and made his way back to his brothers and Grand Master.
* * *
1525
Prussia sprinted down the corridor, up a narrow spiral staircase and along another corridor where he skidded quickly into a room to hide in the garderobe, counting out a full minute silently to himself, then cautiously exited first the garderobe and then the room, walking as fast as he could without actually running till he at last came to the bits of the castle he recognised and he opened Hungary's door and slipped in, leaning back against it to surreptitiously bolt it. She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows.
"There you are. Where did you get to?"
"Oh, around," Prussia said airily, smiling peaceably at Austria who was lounging on Hungary's bed. That particular smile always irritated Austria, being one he had no reason to complain of. "Krakow's nice, this time of year."
"Congratulations on becoming a Duchy, Mary," Austria said snippily. "Do you think your liege lord's, like, totally freaking awesome?"
"I'm awesome," Prussia said, at the same time Hungary swiped the back of Austria's head in mild annoyance.
"Don't make fun of the way my friend talks."
"Ow. Sorry, Hungary."
Prussia mentally chalked up a point to himself. He'd made his own opinions on Poland clear plenty of times, but not today. If his Grand Master wanted to become a Duke and kiss the king of Poland's hand for it, then that was his business. Prussia had taken a vow of obedience, back when he was the German Order, and he'd obediently gone along with what his suddenly-a-duke had wanted, even though he hadn't been all that sure he wanted to be Prussia. Still, he thought, noting the way both Hungary and Austria seemed to have kiss-swollen lips, there were some advantages to this development. If he wasn't a monk any more then he didn't have to worry about breaking his monastic vows, for example. He strolled over and sat on the bed, conveniently blocking Austria's view of Hungary.
"That's a nice dress," he said, which was the fullest extent of his knowledge of fashion. It was a nice dress, and its green and gold colour made her skin look creamier, and her hair look more auburn and she'd been out in the gardens earlier running round hand-in-hand with Poland and had a nice sun-flush on her face and he had a horrible feeling he wanted to say something poetic, which made him both relieved and sorry that the only poems he knew were the psalms.
"Thank you," she said. "You look very nice too."
"It's a bit different than I'm used to," he said, meaning to follow it up with a joke about how the velvet and silk was a style to which he'd become accustomed, but all of a sudden all he wanted was to be wearing rough homespun and mail, and he fell silent, horribly afraid it was showing in his face. He was rescued by Austria - of all people! he thought - who squeezed his shoulder, a look of mild sympathy in his eyes.
"How do you feel?" Austria said.
Prussia shrugged. "It's - a lot. The towns and the townspeople, and the farmers - I'm used to it mainly just being my brothers - being the members of the old German Order." He gave them both a confident smile; no one ever bothered to look beneath his more obnoxious bouts of confidence. "I'll be the most awesome Duchy ever, you'll see!" He underlined it by lying back against Austria as if he were a rather uncomfortable cushion. He was a little surprised when Austria didn't complain, but instead put his arms round his waist.
"Hungary was saying that maybe you'd like to celebrate your new status," Austria said, his voice just that tone of light humour that said Look how hard I'm trying to be pleasant, you northern little oik.
Prussia looked at Hungary's wide smile, and how she seemed enthralled by the fact that Austria was now nuzzling against his ear, and he lay back more heavily on Austria who still didn't complain. He turned his head to smile lazily at him, thinking, You are so whipped, and then Austria kissed him and Prussia found it impossible to think of anything past the fact that he'd got a lot better at this since the last time they'd tried. Hungary came up and kissed his neck, unbuttoning his coat and sliding a hand in to tug at his shirt. Prussia reached up to cradle her head with one hand and half swayed towards her, half was moved by Austria so he could kiss her mouth. That went well, so he lifted his other hand and cupped her breast, wondering how he could ever have thought she was a boy. Hungary sighed into his mouth; it didn't seem a sigh of irritation or boredom, more an encouraging sound, and Prussia found every last niggling wariness he'd had about the day evaporated. He let Austria pull off his coat and wriggle him out of the shirt and laughed as Austria put his hands and mouth on warm bare skin, kissing and licking his way across the breadth of his shoulders. He didn't know why they always rubbed each other up the wrong way at first - Austria was clearly a man of distinguished taste and delicate skills. Hungary for her part was kissing his face, his mouth, his throat, leaving him feeling hotter and less able to speak with every passing second. When she climbed up on the bed with them, Prussia managed to remember how much he hated it when people stole a march on him, but how good it felt to do it to others, and got a hand positioned under her skirts on her calf before the thought was even half formulated. It was at this point, when he was half naked and Austria was trying to open his hose while still kissing him, and Hungary was also kissing him and shifting to make it easier for him to run a hand up her neatly muscled leg, that someone started yelling outside the bedroom door, and knocking in a way that seemed to presage knocking it down.
"Ignore it," Prussia gasped. "It's probably just someone who's got the wrong room." He had no real idea what was being shrieked out in the corridor; the door was blessedly thick and sturdily bolted, and he'd never been interested in learning Lithuanian swearwords. Unfortunately his new name could be heard quite clearly mixed in with the invective, and first Hungary and then Austria straightened up and looked at the door and back at him.
"What did you do?" Hungary asked.
"Nothing!" Prussia said, stung. "Really, nothing." The door rattled on its hinges and Prussia recalled just how severe a personality change Lithuania had when he really lost his temper. "I gave Lithuania something back that I took ages ago," he said. "I was being friendly. Remember that amber cross I had? I thought I'd give it back as a gesture of reconciliation, so I did, and I just told him he should be glad I got rid of its dirty pagan images and that anyway now that I follow Luther's theology it was my duty to bring him the Reformation just like I'd done my bit to help him convert in the first place, and he'd be happier once he stopped being a benighted Catholic. And then he chased me all over the castle howling for my blood. I have no idea why." He looked at their faces. "Seriously, what did I do wrong?"
"Are we benighted too?" Hungary snapped. "Well?"
"Um," Prussia said. "I'm not sure I'd put it quite like that -"
Outside there were now clearly two voices, Lithuania still yelling and - though the words couldn't be made out - what sounded like Poland trying to calm him down.
"I'll talk to them," Hungary said, rolling her eyes at the expression on Prussia's face. She slid off the bed and smoothed down her skirts before heading for the door.
"In trouble with your liege lord already," Austria said. "Fast work, Prussia."
"I'm not in trouble with him," Prussia said, peering over the end of the bed as Hungary opened the door and stood firmly in the centre of it to stop sudden charges. "I mean, it's not like I said anything against him or anyone, really. I can't help it if his toy-boy boyfriend is oversensitive about his filthy pagan past."
There was a pause in which the silence deepened more than Prussia liked.
"You could have said that at less than full volume," Austria said idly, as Lithuania tried to charge in, was grabbed by both Hungary and Poland and manhandled out the door, yelling in renewed fury. Prussia watched wide-eyed, and looked back warily at Austria, who flung himself back onto the pillows.
"This never works," Austria said, to no one in particular. "I don't know why Hungary insists on trying."
* * *
1741
Prussia grinned widely, the joy of battle sweeping over him as his horse galloped full-tilt towards the Austrian lines. They were far too late and too few to keep him out of Prague. He slashed an Austrian soldier across the face and was gone long before the man fell lifeless from his horse. It seemed mere moments before the city was his.
"A lovely place, my friend," France said, sitting elegantly atop his horse as the French and Prussian soldiers ran through the streets. "Let us hope they don't spoil all the pretty girls before we are finally at leisure to spoil them too."
"Uh-huh," Prussia said, not listening. It was always a shame when the fighting stopped and the screams from the civilians started. It seemed much fairer to keep such things between armies. He frowned and looked sidelong at France. "What did you say?"
"I said," France said casting his eyes towards Heaven, "did you hear that Hungary has rebelled against our dear friend in Vienna?"
Prussia laughed, loud and harsh. She'd be magnificent, he thought, like an Amazon. His classical education was lacking in many areas, but he'd seen engravings of Amazons in books of Greece's myths, and they didn't wear any clothes on top. The resulting reverie was broken only when France pummelled him on the shoulder.
"For God's sake, man! Take that drippy smile off your face and let's find something to drink."
By the time they'd got properly drunk, one of the Holy Roman Empire's Electors had proclaimed himself Archduke of Austria and Holy Roman Emperor, and made some rousing speeches about why women were generally useless and couldn't be trusted to run a kitchen, let alone a kingdom. Prussia was fairly sure he could hear the outraged screeching from Vienna, and wondered who had the higher voice, Austria or his favourite little queen? It was disappointing, once he'd sobered up, to discover Austria's queen had written nicely to him. Well not to him exactly, which was a bit rude, he thought, reading over Fritz's shoulder.
"No more fighting?" Prussia said in dismay. "But I've got the armies all ready for you!" It wasn't fair, he thought. He wasn't tired of fighting yet. Fritz gave him a look full of dry humour and passed him the letter to read again.
"I have no idea if Marie-Therese thinks she's getting a permanent truce without agreeing Silesia is ours," he said. "Personally I say we rest the men and attack in the new year."
"Yes, sir!" Prussia said in glee, and all but skipped off to spend the Christmas season with his allies. He found France playing cards with Poland, Sweden and Finland, while Spain sat muttering to himself in the corner, looking impoverished.
"Don't play cards with them," Spain said, draining a glass of Madeira. "At least it's possible to tell when France is cheating."
"I don't cheat," France murmured and rolled his eyes as Poland leant forward. "You just went! It's not your turn!"
"It's so totally my turn," Poland drawled. "Right, Finland?"
"Yes," Finland said with a cheerful innocent smile. "Poland, then me, then Sweden, then you, France."
"Dear God," France sighed. "All right, go on, then - where the hell did you get those cards, you little Slavic sodomite?"
"Thank you," Poland giggled, leaning forward and scooping up the purse in front of France.
"Cheating bastards," France growled. "They've been passing cards between them, Prussia. Some people don't understand what it is to be a gentleman."
"Dude, cry more," Poland said peaceably, shaking half the coins out into Finland's hand.
"See? Why would he share his winnings if they weren't conspiring to cheat?"
"As long as we're all facing the same way in battle I don't care," Prussia grinned. "Austria's lands are big enough for all of us, and if one of you losers really wants his boss to be emperor, go right ahead. I just want Silesia. This century, anyway."
"Long as I get the rest of Italy, I'm happy," Spain said, finishing off the rest of the good wine and moving on to the bottles they kept for moments of drunkenness and apathy. "I like Italy."
"We know," France said. "You've made it so worryingly clear."
"Hey, if everyone else is getting stuff - why is Sweden laughing?"
"I explained in graphic detail why you like Italy so much," France said with a winning smile.
Prussia heaved a sigh and went back out. The room was too full of nations, and none of them was Hungary. "She's too good for you! She's beautiful and strong and she smells like, like . . . sweets!" he yelled in the direction of Vienna, accompanying it with a series of obscene gestures. He had a strange crawling feeling between his shoulder blades and looked round to find Lithuania watching him, eyebrows raised. He made an obscure gesture that Prussia decided to interpret as some sort of Lithuanian mime for I know I'm a total loser and can never be as great as you, and went inside to join the others. All in all, it was a relief for everyone when the fighting broke out again.
*
The Austrian forces were routing, which was what they did best, in Prussia's opinion. Vienna was almost in his sights. He was going to haul that glasses-wearing, music-playing, soft-handed weed back north and make him a scullery boy. It would be wonderful. Right at that moment his spirit soared, and he saw Austria himself, sword in hand, facing off against Spain. A child peered round from behind Austria, plump face worried. Another child of much the same age stood by Spain, scowling. What the hell they were doing, playing round with kids on the battlefield, Prussia had no idea. It did seem to be distracting them, though, so he crept closer.
"You see, Italy wants to remain with me," Austria said in his fancy, fussy way. "You should be satisfied with South Italy, Spain. You and I shouldn't be fighting, you know that."
"I never wanted to fight you," Spain said sadly, holding tight to the scowling kid's hand. The kid turned its head and looked straight at Prussia who grinned and held a finger up to his lips. Screw that the kid mouthed, and tugged on Spain's hand.
"Spain!"
"I should probably go home," Spain said. "If only you hadn't been allied with England - none of this was personal, Austria, you know that, don't you?"
"Of course."
"Spain! Hey, pay attention, you bastard!"
"You need to bring that child up a little better," Austria said disapprovingly. "Children should be seen and not heard." He touched the child with him, one brief, approving pat to the head.
"Romano, shh, grown-ups are talking."
"Why am I the only one round here with fucking eyes? Prussia's right fucking there!"
"Surprise!" Prussia said, and got in a good blow at Austria, who moved backwards with the speed of the suddenly very scared. The kids fled shrieking, with Spain in pursuit. Austria got his sword up to parry and that was all he did from then on, Prussia pressing him back towards the gates of the city, their blades ringing together. "Did you miss me?" he said mockingly. "Don't you think your little queen will look pretty begging Fritz for her life? Maybe he'll offer her a safe home away from everyone who wants to be emperor, and I can visit her every day!" Austria's look of desperation hardened into fury and he flung himself forward, doing his best to drive Prussia back.
"You're not setting foot on one more single inch of my lands!" Austria said.
"Pffft," Prussia said. "You and what army? I don't know if you've noticed, but yours is sort of running away."
"Really?" Austria said, and smiled a prissy little smile. "Idiot."
Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Prussia stepped back cautiously, feeling horrible all over. What on earth - He looked behind him and gasped. Hungarians. Thousands of Hungarian cavalry forces were tearing into his men. "No," he said blankly. "She rebelled. She rebelled against you!"
"Oh, didn't you hear?" Austria said pleasantly. "She came back. Ah - by the way -" He nodded at something to the side, and Prussia turned to see a huge horse bearing down on him, Hungary on its back, dressed in coat and breeches like a man, sword upraised.
"Christ!" Prussia shrieked as he barely parried in time, and sparks flew from their blades. This wasn't good - The horse reared up, its intent to smash its enormous hooves down on his head clear in its expression, and Prussia ran. "Get off your horse and face me like a man!" he yelled. "Bloody girls, wanting some unfair advantage in battle!" To his surprise it worked.
"There are no circumstances I can't kick you from one end of a battlefield to the other!" Hungary yelled, and slid from the horse's back. She ran at him and attacked in a flurry of blows that kept him busy and distracted from Austria for long enough so that it was an unpleasant shock when he realised he was facing two opponents.
"I'm so glad you could make it," Austria said, doing his best to smile at Hungary while directing a blow at Prussia's thigh.
"Someone has to keep you out of trouble," Hungary muttered, trying to hide a little smirk.
"Stop leaving me out!" Prussia screamed, and kicked Austria's feet from under him. Austria's sword flew up in the air and Prussia caught it, stabbing it down and through the sleeve of his coat, pinning Austria to the earth. A second later he hit the ground himself, all the breath gone from his body as Hungary slammed into him. His head spinning, Prussia saw her reverse her grip on the sword and aim a punch of the guard at his face. He caught her wrist and held on, not wanting his teeth shattered. Hungary straddled him, trying to keep him down with her weight as she fumbled for a knife with her other hand. Prussia put all his effort into one last try and wrenched her sword away, then grabbed her hair and pulled her down, and kissed her. All the sounds of battle stopped, and he could hear only his own heart, hammering in his chest as she glared at him, wide-eyed. Then her own hand was tight in his hair and she was kissing him back. Prussia pushed them both into a sitting position, so he could keep an eye on Austria, and enjoy his irritation at what was happening. It was a good thing he did so, he decided, seeing Austria trying to fumble with a pistol, one-handed.
"C'mere," Prussia said, and hauled him up, tearing the sleeve of his coat on his own sword. Austria fought against his kiss at first, then did his best to flatten Prussia down into the mud once more, his tongue in his mouth. There didn't seem to be much point in delicately taking off their clothes, seeing as they were all covered in mud, so Prussia just tore Austria's coat open and ripped his shirt down from the neck. Austria's hands were trying to do the same on his breeches, though the slippery mud was making it harder work. It was a better use of all their hands to get Hungary out of her coat and shirt, and to touch her hot skin. An Amazon, Prussia thought, kissing her breasts. Perfect. Austria had managed to work a hand into her breeches and was kissing her face and neck, his expression enraptured despite the mud on his glasses.
"Get your damn clothes off," Hungary gasped. "Both of you, now!" She arched up against Prussia's mouth and Austria's hand, laughing.
Trumpets sounded, far too close.
"What -" Austria said, squinting and trying to see what was interrupting them.
Horses began to stream past them, cavalry officers yelling orders in Hungarian. Prussia peered in the direction they were coming and winced. The Prussian forces had regrouped and were coming in, fast.
"Um. Sorry," he said sheepishly, "my armies -"
Austria and Hungary both looked at him with identical frustrated expressions.
"Now?" Austria said. "You have never had any sense of timing, new boy."
"My name's not "new boy"," Prussia snapped.
"Come on," Hungary said, rolling her eyes. She pulled on her coat and grabbed up her sword. "Honestly, Prussia," she started, then just shook her head and leapt back onto her horse, pulling Austria up behind her. The horse wheeled round and sprang after the retreating cavalry. Prussia closed his eyes and lay back in the mud, hoping it was Fritz who found him first. France would never let him live this down.
* * *
1990
After the shouting was over and the Wall didn't spring up of its own accord again, Prussia found himself a little overwhelmed by, well, everything, not that he was going to admit it. He'd expected - he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it wasn't, Brother! I'm so happy to see you! By the way, I'm seizing your lands and people. Which was unfair to West, he thought, because what nation could withstand their people's wishes? Both his people and West's had wanted to be one, so that was the end of it. There was no point in acting like a spoilt little kid, especially because that was what West so obviously was waiting for. It was hard, because Prussia really wanted to whine and mope, but that wouldn't look awesome.
"You should build up the army," he said. "Armies are always good for upping employment."
"The army's big enough," West said, poring over his account books.
"I meant it about the employment," Prussia said, just to be clear. "It wasn't a Hey, West, fancy a military tour of Europe again?"
"Don't joke," West said.
"Oh, sorry, am I failing at being German? Displaying some un-Teutonic sense of humour?"
"Don't joke about that." West looked up, his face worried as usual. "People might talk."
Prussia shrugged and wandered round the room, picking things up just so he could leave fingerprints on them. He could feel West itching to jump up and start polishing everything clean. It was very sad that his brother was such a houseproud loser. He needed to get out more. "Hey, West, why don't go you go and drop in on Italy? I'm sure he'd love to see you."
"I can't just visit people unannounced."
Prussia silently mimicked him, then turned back with a big smile. "It's not "people" I'm talking about, it's Italy. He never calls ahead when he comes here. And you love it."
"I do not."
"You do too."
"I - I'm not getting trapped in one of your silly arguments," West said. "I'm too busy to make social calls."
"Hey, I'll do your work for a few days, you go and have fun -" Prussia almost had his hands on the account books when they were whisked away, West clutching them to him like they were his favourite grandchild.
"No! No, thank you."
"How about I look after the health service? That'd take some of the pressure off you. I used to be a hospitaller order, you know, I'm good with the sick."
"Leave my health service alone," West said in horror. "I'm sure you ran yours to the best of your ability, but -"
Prussia crossed his arms. "But what?" West was starting to blush, a horrible blotchy red that didn't look good with his fair skin at all. "But I couldn't possibly ever have done anything as good as the lovely, perfumed, sainted West? You and the rest of them?"
"I'm sure you did the best you could, under the circumstances -" West started.
"Circumstances forced on me and my neighbours, and now your people call mine whining Ossis -"
"Brother, please," West said. "You know that's not what I think. Some people are just rude, that's all." He paused, and went redder. "I don't mind you thinking they're still yours, just - try not to say it in public. It's - inaccurate."
Prussia held his breath. None of the things he wanted to say would make any difference. The silence lengthened till West was about to explode from embarrassment; Prussia laughed as loudly as he could. "God, West," he said, "lighten up, you'll live longer. I'm not hanging round while you play with numbers, I'm going out."
"To meet Hungary?" West said, sounding relieved that his big brother wasn't going to start weeping and fainting like a wilting flower.
"Huh?" Prussia said.
"She rang earlier. Here, she left a message -"
Prussia took the card and glanced at the name of the hotel, written in West's neat, careful handwriting. "Yeah, I'm meeting her," he said. "I'd forgotten the hotel, thanks for writing it down." West nodded, clearly willing to pretend he believed Prussia had known. He headed out the door and paused. "Seriously, West, go and see Italy, you're too tense. It'd do you good to get laid." The sputtering and denials followed him as he left; he grinned more genuinely and stuck his head back round the door. "West, please. All of Europe knows." West's expression was the best thing he'd seen all day, and he was in a far better mood as he strolled into town.
The hotel was nicer than he'd expected; Hungary was recovering too, and none of his old neighbours had much money to spend on holidays. He stood in the lobby and looked at the shining wood and brass, the expensive, old-fashioned fittings. This place wasn't cheap; he hoped he could convince her to eat and drink somewhere more affordable. He pulled out his wallet and checked his money. Damn it, he thought. He should have asked West for a loan, which wouldn't have been a loan because he had no way of repaying him. He shoved the wallet back in his pocket and glared at the chandelier. Nine centuries old and I have to ask my kid brother for pocket money?, he thought. Screw that. Maybe I still have time to rob a bank -
"Prussia!"
"Hi," he said, turning with his biggest smile. "Nice hotel."
She grinned at him and kissed his cheek, linking arms with him to swing him round. She still smelled sweet, though her clothes weren't as nice as she usually liked them. To be truthful, Prussia thought, Hungary was looking a bit unfashionable, a bit like she'd been careful of her clothes too long and could no longer disguise the threadbare patches, and a bit tired and washed-out, like she'd had too many worries and too brief a moment of freedom to wipe them away. Like him.
"Let's have a drink," she said.
"Somewhere less snobby," Prussia said quickly. "There's a place I saw up the road -"
"Sure," she said, and went with him to the cheap pub he'd made note of. He bought himself the cheapest beer they had, which left him enough drinks money to buy her a glass of wine and a packet of crisps. "Thanks," she said. "Is that what you usually have?"
"Felt like trying something new." She was lovely, he thought. Even with her hair still looking dull from the damage done to her economy, and her out-of-style clothes, she was still lovely. "Hungary -" he said, and kissed her, his fingers on her cheek. She smiled into the kiss and opened her lips for him. He very much wished they were somewhere private, as he pulled back and sipped his drink, watching the laughter in her eyes. "Why did you marry him?" he asked, which wasn't what he'd wanted to say at all, but she had and it hadn't been fair, and she and Austria had found a way to leave him out, forever.
"It was good for my people," she said, not regretful at all. "We were pushed into it by them, you know that." She smiled, a wicked, private smile. "He went down on one knee -"
"Loser," Prussia said automatically, and winced as she slapped his arm.
" - and he quoted poetry and begged me to do him the honour of accepting his proposal of marriage, which was a much nicer way of putting it than our people came up with. Compromise." She snorted in offended amusement. "How is it that you never quoted poetry to me?"
"I don't know many poems," he said, "And they're mostly in Latin." He took a deeper swallow of his beer. "Columba mea in foraminibus petrae, in caverna maceriae, ostende mihi faciem tuam, sonet vox tua in auribus meis, vox enim tua dulcis et facies tua decora. How's that?"
"See? You can do it if you try. Though I'm not sure I'm peaceful enough to be called a dove."
But your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely, he thought, though he couldn't quite manage to say it.
"Come on," Hungary said, downing the last of her wine and standing. "We need to go back to the hotel for dinner."
"I'm not really hungry," Prussia said. "Let's go for a walk."
"Maybe later." She bent down to whisper in his ear. "Come on, Prussia, Austria is paying." When he didn't move she sighed in irritation. "Up! We're going to dinner, and you can be nice to him." She pulled him up and linked arms, leaning into him. "Don't look so forlorn," she said. "It's eighty years since he and I got divorced, we can all be friends now." She marched him out the door and into the street, where he had to give up and actually walk properly, lest people see him being dragged bodily along by a woman.
"It's a rare day Austria opens his wallet. If he's paying, I'm having a starter and dessert," he said.
"Damn right," Hungary grinned. She broke away suddenly, and waved. "Austria!"
She ran down to the hotel, going up on her toes to lightly kiss his lips. Prussia followed more slowly, and stood before them; then Austria surprised him for the first time in centuries, and hugged him.
"Prussia. It's good to see you." His clothes were a lot better than either Prussia's or Hungary's, and he looked nowhere near as tired as Prussia felt. "I'm so glad you're back here."
"Only natural," Prussia said. "You've fancied me for almost a thousand years. Let's eat!"
Austria didn't look even the slightest bit irritated; he just clapped Prussia on the shoulder and took Hungary's hand, and led them to the hotel restaurant. Prussia grabbed a menu and got ready to order lobster for at least his starter and main course. Possibly he'd have a third one with ice cream as dessert. He paused, reading the menu - Or, he thought, I could have something I actually like. This looks pretty good.
"Are you sure you want a stew?" Hungary said, once they'd ordered.
"Yes," Prussia said. "I like plain food. It's more masculine," he added, smirking sidelong at Austria. There was no need to say it was comfort food or that he could imagine sitting and eating with Fritz. When it came, it was delicious, and he forgave Austria's fussing over exactly which wine went with stew. After, he sat in a pleasant food-haze; he could walk it off on his way back to West's house, he supposed.
Hungary stood up and held out her hand. "Come with me."
"OK," Prussia said, and folded her hand into his, liking the feel of her fingers. She led him away while Austria settled the bill, and pulled him into a lift. "Where are we going?"
"Up," she smiled, pressing a button for the fifth floor. She wound her arms round his neck and kissed him, laughing a little into his mouth as he held her tight, then led him out into a corridor, and to a door. The room was large and comfortably furnished, with a big bed, a pleasant desk and a small two-seater settee facing the TV. Hungary kicked off her shoes with a groan of relief. "You men don't know how easy you have it," she said. "Would you like another drink?"
"Sure," Prussia said, and watched her crouch down to examine the contents of the mini-bar. The only thing he wanted was for her to kiss him again. "Anything."
She poured them both a brandy and sat by him on the settee, sipping it. Prussia wondered how hard she'd hit him if he just jumped on top of her. Not that he would, it would look like he was desperate, and he wasn't. Much, he thought. Kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Hungary just sipped her drink, looking at him in amusement. After a few moments more she set her glass on the floor, lifted her skirt a bit to make it easier to move, and straddled his legs, a knee on either side of him. She laughed as he tried to put his glass down, and then just swallowed his brandy down in one mouthful when it proved too difficult. He wrapped an arm round her waist to keep her from slipping off, and stroked her ass with the other hand. Charging straight at any problem had rarely failed him, and even when it had, it was always fun while it lasted. She didn't slap him, so he tried the effect of squeezing her ass too, and she pushed him back against the cushions to kiss him into submission. He barely noticed when the door opened and Austria slipped in.
"Hey," Austria said, squashing in beside them. He put his arms round both of them, and kissed first Hungary then Prussia. "Wouldn't you rather be more comfortable?"
"That's the worst line ever," Prussia said. "Haven't you ever seen a romantic film?"
"I meant it literally," Austria said, looking a bit confused. "I just think the bed's more comfortable."
Hungary chuckled, and climbed off Prussia's lap. "He's right," she said, and hauled Prussia up after her, spinning him round and pushing him onto the bed. "Where were we? Ah, yes -" She climbed back on top of him and kissed him again. He pulled her tight against him so he could feel her against his whole body and laughed with joy as she rocked her hips against him. It was only a little inconvenience when the mattress dipped and Austria lay beside them, one hand stroking down Hungary's back. She turned Prussia's head so Austria could kiss him, then dropped a quick peck on his cheek before rolling off. "I just want to take my tights off," she said. "I'll be right back." As Austria kissed him again Prussia watched her out of the corner of his eye, dropping her rings onto the desk, then unselfconsciously unzipping her skirt to land in a ripple of fabric around her feet, and rolling her tights down carefully. She pulled her top off too, tossing it to one side.
"Oh, God," Prussia said at the sight of her standing there in her underwear, and Austria laughed, quite kindly.
"Yes, I entirely agree," he murmured, and undid Prussia's trousers. "Is this all right?" he asked, and slipped his hand into Prussia's underwear.
"Oh, God," Prussia said in wonder, pushing up into his hand. "You and your fucking finger exercises!"
Austria laughed, a lot. He laughed more than Prussia ever remembered him doing, which was both interesting and sort of alarming to see. It also made it difficult for him to do what he'd been doing with his long, clever fingers, so Prussia smacked him on the shoulder till he got control of himself. "Sorry," Austria wheezed, "sorry." He sat up and pulled off his own shirt, then started undoing Prussia's, a task made more difficult when Hungary got back on the bed and Prussia tried to drag them both on top of him at once. It got very tangled and no one could do much, but he didn't care.
"He's not even undressed," Hungary said.
"We can solve that, can't we?" Austria said, smiling at Prussia, and sorting them out so he could finally lose the shirt. He kissed him again, working his way down, kissing and sucking at his collarbone and chest. Prussia held on, stroking whatever bits of either of the others came within reach, feeling quite overcome. It was only natural they both wanted him, of course, even as kids they'd fancied him. It was just that he wanted them so very much, and wished he could find a way to say it without sounding like some sort of soft-hearted, soft-headed loser. He settled for touching them very gently, trying to resist just hugging them so tight they couldn't move. Hungary was kissing his chest as well now, and they were both still creeping down, which he didn't want to think too much about, in case it didn't happen and he was disappointed.
"Do you want to or should I?" Hungary said, and it must have been meant for Austria, who replied,
"I don't mind. Whatever you prefer."
"Where's the -"
"Bedside cabinet, in the drawer." Austria came back up to kiss Prussia's mouth again, leaning on him heavily. He wasn't as gangly and sharp-elbowed as he'd been when younger, his limbs and body more padded with his adult weight.
"His legs will go to sleep," Hungary said. "Don't worry, Prussia, I'll move him."
"I'm fine," Prussia said, but she wasn't listening.
"Don't be selfish," she said in a low voice. "Really, Austria, we talked about this -"
"Sorry," Austria said. "It'll be easier once I get the rest of his clothes off."
"Don't leave him to do it by himself," Hungary said.
"You don't have to talk over me like I'm not here," Prussia said, grinning.
Hungary patted his shoulder. "We're not. You don't have to worry." She turned her attention back to Austria. "Don't let him get upset."
"Sorry," Austria murmured, shifting so he wasn't on top of Prussia any more. It felt a little cold to no longer have him pressed so close.
"I'm not upset -" Prussia started, but Austria hadn't said it to him. Hungary gave Austria a meaningful look, a sort of I lived in your house for centuries and then I married you and you know exactly what this look means, so behave yourself level glance, then turned back to Prussia with a bright and happy smile, fitting herself back into both his and Austria's embrace. Prussia frowned. She kissed him again, but it didn't feel like it had before, and neither did Austria's touch. He wasn't really sure how it had happened, but it had all turned from something they'd been doing with him to something they were doing to him. Hungary's hand joined Austria's, both of them stroking him slowly. It felt oddly - orchestrated. Oh, my God, he thought in horrible, cold shock. None of this was to do with him at all. He was just there to make things more interesting for them, like some sort of toy. It took a lot of effort not to shake from sheer humiliation, but he managed not to do more than flinch a little.
"Are you all right?" Austria said, what sounded like real worry in his voice. "Did I press on a nerve? Are you cold? Can I get you something?"
Prussia sat up and looked at them both, at their concerned expressions and felt his heart sink even lower, thinking about how nice they had both been to him, how Austria hadn't said even one snippy, stuck-up thing. The truth was worse than he'd thought. They were sorry for him. Poor little Prussia, he thought bitterly. Loses his lands, loses his people but we can at least give him a pity fuck. The last remnants of his desire flickered out; Austria looked down at his hand's position and back up, a little too determinedly casual.
"Don't worry," he said, "it happens to everyone, you'll be all right again in a minute."
"I should go," Prussia said.
"What? No -"
"Why?"
"I have to go," Prussia said and did his level best not to throw them off the bed. He couldn't look in their faces, he thought - he'd drop dead from shame. Which was the kind of thing losers thought, so he looked them defiantly in the eye, and watched them realise he knew. They made no effort to stop him dressing or leaving, which hurt as well. Don't be so stupid, he thought. He might have lost everything that people thought was important, but he still had his pride, and it got him to the door without running.
"Prussia -" Hungary said, her voice small and lost.
"Relax, I'm fine," he said and was surprised how normal he sounded. "I'll see you around. You should come to West's place and put fingerprints on things, it drives him up the wall." He grinned and was out the door, safe where they couldn't see how he staggered from the sheer weight of his misery. He thought he heard Hungary crying, but it was far too late to care about any of that.
He'd be fine, he thought, wiping at the irritating moisture in his eyes. He took deep breaths of the cold air as he came out into the street, telling himself to calm down. It was a long walk back to West's, and no one would be surprised if he went straight to bed. He didn't think he'd have to worry about crying himself to sleep; he was down on his luck, sure, but that didn't have to mean he'd turned pathetic as well. I'm the German Order. I'm the Duchy and Kingdom of Prussia dammit, he reminded himself as he got his fast walk down from retreat to something more like man with somewhere to go. He fixed his most obnoxious smile on his face and forced himself to look two passing girls in the eye and wink. "I'm the fucking German Democratic Republic," he said conversationally and strode past before he had to listen to them speculate on the sanity of drunken Ossis. What did he care? They weren't his people, he owned no human or nation a damn thing any more.
He forced all thoughts from his head and kept walking.
* * *
Part Two
Rating: M
Warnings: none
Summary: Prussia puts a spanner in the works. Repeatedly.
Note: Thank you to puddingcat for her beta and to rheasilvia for her help too! Historical notes at the end of part two.
For wizzard890 - get well soon!
1212
Hungary and Austria were fighting again, and Austria was getting the worst of it as usual. His knees were skinned and he had the beginnings of a black eye, and his stupid, prissy glasses were lying in the dust. The German Order picked them up and put them on, squinting at how wavy the world had become. Austria must always have a headache from these things, he thought, deciding it would explain a lot about his attitude.
"Hi, Hungary," he said.
"Hi," Hungary said breathlessly, and knocked Austria over to lie on his back, whimpering.
"I can't see," Austria said.
"That's because the new boy has your glasses."
"I'm not the new boy. I'm the Order -"
" - Of the German house of St Mary in Jerusalem," Hungary finished in a mocking tone. "Or "Mary" for short," he added, pulling Austria back to his feet.
"My glasses, please," Austria said, holding out a grubby, plump hand. "Mary."
The German Order narrowed his eyes and winced as the world got wavier. He took off the glasses and held them out. "Here you go," he said. "You'll need them to spot Switzerland when he shows up to save your ass. Again."
Austria muttered something about not needing Switzerland or anyone's help, and then he turned his back and sat down, ignoring them both. Hungary rolled his eyes and prodded him with one foot.
"Stop sulking. It's too hot to fight any more. Who wants to go and swim in the Danube?"
"In my bit of it?" Austria said hopefully.
"No, idiot, my bit."
"I don't like your bit," Austria said, snootily.
"Well, I don't have a bit of it, so it's a rubbish river, and would encourage vanity and despair anyway, which would be a cause of sin for you two losers," the German Order said. Hungary raised his eyebrows.
"How so?"
"You'd think you were good looking, which would be vanity, till you saw real perfection," he said, modestly indicating himself. "And then you'd despair."
"Sounds like someone's suffering from vanity all right," Austria sniffed from the ground.
"It's not vanity if you really are perfect," the German Order grinned, and sat beside him. "Finished sulking yet?"
"I'm not sulking!"
"Whatever. Do those things really help you to see?"
Austria gave him a look like he was the stupidest boy in Christendom. "Yes," he said. "They help me see."
"Swimming would also give you strange ideas," the German Order said. "You'd probably want to touch my willy."
"I'd need stronger glasses just to see it," Austria said with a nasty little smile that begged to be punched off his face.
"Have you ever touched another boy's willy?" Hungary said, interrupting the proceedings just as the German Order had Austria by the throat.
"No," he said. "Why would I want to?"
"Me neither," Austria croaked.
"Haven't you noticed that most nations' people are very keen on all sorts of willy-touching?" Hungary said. "It must have something going for it."
There was a contemplative pause. Then,
"Would you like to touch mine?" Austria said. "I could touch yours -"
Hungary went rather pink for someone who'd brought the conversation to this point. "Oh. Um, well, I'm sort of a late developer -"
The German Order dropped Austria back in the dust in disgust. He wasn't used to being ignored quite so much by people he was actually fighting. He was also just unused to being ignored. "There are three of us here, you know," he said.
"That's all right, each person could touch the other two," Austria said, getting to his knees and drawing a little plan in the dust that showed he had been giving all of this far too much thought, in the German Order's opinion.
"That's quite clever," Hungary said, looking at the sketch. "You're a lot better at art than at fighting."
"I'm sensitive," Austria said, his cheeks going red from the praise. "What do you think?" he added, turning to the German Order.
"I think you're an idiot," he said automatically, and paused. Hungary and Austria kept looking at the unfortunately detailed sketch and back at each other with a sort of intrigued expression. They were leaving him out again, which wasn't fair, because he had to admit he was sort of intrigued as well. "Fine, let's do it," he said, and unbuckled his sword belt. "Come on, armour off, everybody, no one wants cuts and bruises there, do they?"
Austria's sword belt hit the ground, swiftly followed by Austria's tabard, more clumsily followed by Austria trying to find where his glasses had sailed off to. Hungary unbuckled his sword belt more slowly, looking shy.
"I don't want you laughing, just because you're developing faster than me," he said. "If you do, I'll beat you up."
"Pfffft," the German Order said. "C'mon, we're all boys here."
Hungary grinned, a blindingly wide smile that made the German Order feel very much more intrigued. "Yeah," he said, and started undoing his armour.
The German Order had always been more inclined to action than to deep, probing thought; as far as he was concerned, that was what other orders were for. Still, as he looked at his tabard, dropped down in a messy heap, the sight of the black cross stark against the white caught his eye. Vanity and despair were among the big sins, he thought, but other things were sins too, and led into the deadly ones. Now he thought about it, this plan seemed to have something to do with lust. He'd heard sermon after sermon about occasions of sin, and people being led astray by their carnal desires, which often, on casting his mind back, had an element of willy-touching somewhere in the mix.
"Guys?" he said. "Do you think this might be an abomination before the Lord?"
"Huh?" Hungary said, struggling out of his tunic and standing there in shirt and hose.
"Shut up," Austria said.
"It's just - well, I had to learn the entire Bible off, and do you think this counts as fornication? Or as polluting yourself with mankind? Or just yourself? They're all on the list -"
"Shut. Up," Austria said again.
"No, he's right," Hungary said, looking both relieved and disappointed. "Maybe we shouldn't. We should ask someone older for advice."
"I'm not asking France anything," Austria muttered.
The German Order nodded firmly. That was something they were in complete agreement on. He sighed as Hungary swiped up his tunic again and pulled it over his head. He had successfully resisted temptation and saved other people from sinning too, which should have felt more like a triumph than it did.
"What now?" he asked, getting as neatly back into his own clothes and armour as he could without help.
"You could come to my king's house for dinner," Hungary said cheerfully, and sauntered off, obviously expecting them both to follow.
Austria just carried his scabbarded sword and his sword belt in his hand, not even having the self-respect to put them back on, not matter how much the German Order sneered at him.
"I'm going to get you back for this," he said, sounding for once like a soldier rather than a stuck-up lah-di-dah. "You'd better watch out, new boy."
"My name's not "new boy"," the German Order said and shoved him, then ran after Hungary, Austria on his heels all the way.
* * *
1240
"That's a cool sword," Hungary said, popping another slice of apple in his mouth and nodding to the corner where the German Order had stacked his belongings. "Where'd you steal it?"
"I didn't steal it," the German Order said, annexing as many pillows as he could. "It's a legitimate spoil of war. I took it from Russia - he cried like a big crybaby." It was only a little fib, he thought, and he'd be sure to confess it later. Russia had really just smiled a creepy smile and told him to take care of it because he'd come and take it back eventually and then asked him to come and visit him at Lake Peipus. The German Order thought he might take a few thousand of his friends along with him when he went.
"What about this?" Austria asked from his other side, picking up the knife with which the German Order had sliced the apples. It had a smooth bone handle, covered with carvings of strange beasts, and a bright amber bead embedded in the centre of the bone.
"Took it from Lithuania on my way to Russia," the German Order said. "It's too nice for a heathen - he can eat with something plainer. I took this -" he fished a cross made from a large piece of amber out from under the neck of his shirt, "- on the way back. It had some sort of pagan idol on it, but I had it carved down and made into a cross. He actually cried when I showed it to him later." That wasn't a fib, and was one of his most amusing memories.
Hungary rolled over onto his stomach, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Does anyone want more sweets?" he asked, pulling the bowl of candied fruits into the centre of the bed, rummaging till he found what he wanted. "Look, this is sugar," he said proudly. "My king bought lots, and said I could have as much as I wanted."
Austria took a small piece of the unappetising-looking stuff and crunched it up. "That's just too sweet," he said, grimacing. "I don't see it ever becoming popular."
"It's far too expensive," Hungary said. "I sort of wish all my people could have a little bit, though. What about you?"
The German Order shook his head. "Good, plain food and not enough of it to be gluttonous, that's what my Grand Masters say. I wouldn't like it at all - unless it has some medicinal qualities? I am a hospitaller order."
"More like an order for putting people in hospital," Austria said and giggled at his own wit. "Hungary, why did you invite this lout to your slumber party?"
"The question is why'd he invite you?" the German Order grumbled. "Hungary and me get on all right. You're the enemy here."
"I'm not your enemy," Austria said, his face saying he was spoiling for a fight. It looked pretty funny; he'd gone from plump and round-cheeked to skinny and angular, and still looked nothing like a soldier.
"Maybe not, but you're Hungary's!"
"Calm down," Hungary said. "I just wanted some peace and goodwill and not to have to fight over Christmas. We're all going to have a nice time and not argue, all right? This is nothing to do with the Holy Roman Empire." He nudged Austria firmly. "Right?"
"It's long past his bedtime anyway," Austria mumbled. "Honestly, I end up running things half the time because he's too sleepy. I should just take everything over officially."
"No politics," Hungary said. He poked the German Order in the side. "And no gloating about how much better you are than miserable sinners."
"It's not a matter of gloating - " the German Order started. "Ow!" He rubbed his side where Hungary had poked him again rather more vigorously. "No politics, no religion," he said more meekly.
"Good," Hungary said, and rolled over him to lie wedged between him and Austria. "I think I'm a bit tipsy," he laughed. "What about you two?"
"I barely had two pints of hippocras," the German Order said, the wine and the sweets settling nicely in him to make him warm and sleepy. "I'm made of -" he yawned, "- sterner stuff than you."
"Civilised nations don't live by stolen beer alone," Austria said, snuggling into the quilt. "Does your room always spin, Hungary?" He drew a sharp breath then, and said nothing else.
The German Order wondered if he should bother turning his head to see what was up with Austria, then his eyes widened, and he wondered if he should instead maybe turn his head to see if he was imagining that someone was stroking his thigh. He peered to his left and saw that Hungary was smiling slightly up at the hangings of the bed. His hand was very definitely on the German Order's thigh, stroking little circles that felt more and more obvious, though the pressure remained light and even. He lifted his head further and looked at Austria, whose face was pressed into the pillows, only one eye visible, wide and shocked like a scared rabbit. The German Order sat up awkwardly and noted that Hungary's other hand was on Austria's ass, which would explain that.
"I've been thinking," Hungary said. "Do you remember a day when we were smaller, and it was really hot and I'd been fighting Austria-"
"Yes," Austria said, and he didn't sound like a scared rabbit. More like a mildly intimidated kitten, the German Order thought. "Whatever you're going to say next, the answer's yes, Hungary."
"Good," Hungary said, and took his hand off the German Order's leg so he could turn over and stroke Austria's face. "Oh, good, you've already taken your glasses off." He kissed Austria's cheek, and Austria made a strange squeaking noise, and sat up, fast. Before Hungary could do much more than blink in tipsy surprise Austria wrapped his arms round him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.
"Er -" the German Order said, wondering how a march had been stolen on him and who exactly was stealing it. "What -" Hungary wriggled out of Austria's embrace and kissed him as well, his lips sticky-sweet with the sugar and fruits they'd been eating. "Oh," he said in wonder as Hungary was pulled back by Austria.
"He can't even formulate sentences. Kiss me," Austria said, following this up with another sloppy kiss to Hungary's mouth and - as the German Order was a little belatedly outraged to see - a sneaky hand cupping Hungary's ass.
It wasn't that the German Order thought Hungary minded - it was quite clear he didn't, what with the way he squished closer to Austria and made a very interesting sound into his mouth, which made Austria make an interesting sound, which made the German Order feel rather lonely and left out.
"Hey," he said uncomfortably, "I'm right here -"
"Feel free to leave," Austria said, taking a brief moment away from his kissing practice.
"You can't just - you can't take advantage of our host like this!" the German Order said, kneeling up and getting ready to defend Hungary's honour whether he wanted it or not.
"May I?" Austria said to Hungary, who nodded enthusiastically. "It seems I can," he said smugly. "Get lost. I wouldn't want to be an occasion for sin for you."
"Bastard," the German Order said, wondering how best to punch him without punching Hungary as well.
Hungary sat up straight and pinched them both on the inner thigh. While they were blinking back tears of pain he crossed his arms in irritation. "No fighting! We are all going to be nice to each other. It's Christmas, so we have to show each other peace and goodwill. Or so help me, I'll make you both very sorry. Understand?"
"Yes, Hungary," they chorused meekly.
"Well, then -" he kissed the German Order again, stroking fingers over his inner thigh in a way that felt a lot nicer than the pinch had been.
"I'm just trying to help him keep his vows," Austria said. "Which I seem to remember were important to him the last time we were all together."
"Will you have to do a lot of penance?" Hungary whispered, kissing the tip of the German Order's nose as he nodded. "Do you mind that?"
He shook his head and kissed him with no expertise but a lot of eager enthusiasm. He'd never really given things like lust much thought, other than to be glad he wasn't a human with their odd urges, but he found himself willing to reconsider. Hungary's lips were soft, and Hungary's clever idea of opening his mouth and putting his tongue between the German Order's lips was really the most astonishing thing he'd experienced in a long time. He took a leaf out of Austria's book, running a hand over Hungary's ass, and slapping Austria's hand away as he did so.
"Don't be so greedy," Austria said, and plastered himself up against Hungary from behind, kissing the back of his neck, and slipping his hands round to the front. "Um," he said, sounding puzzled, as he rested a hand on Hungary's chest. "Hungary?"
"Yes?" Hungary said, wriggling back against him, and all questions very clearly left Austria's mind.
"You should do some training for your shoulders and chest," the German Order said, trying to dislodge Austria's hand from Hungary. "You're a bit weak and flabby."
"Less criticism, more kissing," Hungary said, and ducked aside as they both tried to obey. "Kiss each other, you two."
They glared at each other and then reluctantly leant in and kissed each other on the cheek, like they were making a treaty they had every intention of breaking.
"Kiss properly! We're all going to be nice to each other, remember?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Austria muttered, and then spluttered as the German Order grabbed him and stuck his tongue in his mouth. After a brief struggle they settled into a not unpleasant kiss that left them both panting when they drew apart.
"That was nice," Hungary said, bright-eyed. "Do that again!"
It was easier to fit in with Austria's gangly arms and sharp elbows this time, and the German Order had to admit - privately at least - that all that book-reading seemed to have given him some interesting ideas on the theory of kissing and copping a feel. He wasn't sure if it was a victory or a loss that Austria's hand ended up in his crotch before his did in Austria's; either way it was something he had no objections to, he decided.
"Maybe we should take our clothes off," Austria said, his voice hoarse.
"Good idea," Hungary said, his voice going higher with anticipation. "You're not to laugh at me, I'm still a sort of late developer."
"Don't worry," the German Order said, pulling his shirt over his head and breaking the laces in the process. What was a lack of body hair and an unbroken voice between friends, after all? He kicked off his hose and pulled Austria free of his. The lah-di-dah didn't look too bad out of his clothes, he thought. He must do some sword training along with the reading and lute playing. Austria looked down his nose at him, and the German Order belatedly realised he was just straining to make things come clear in his vision. In a rare moment of empathy he leant in to kiss him, stroking a hand through his hair. "You're not as weedy as you seem," he said.
"Thanks," Austria said. "I think."
They turned to Hungary and froze. Hungary smiled nervously at them, a little shy.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Austria turned to the German Order. "Don't say it," he said. "Don't say anything, for the love of Christ."
The German Order stayed staring at Hungary, at the small but very obvious breasts, the slim waist that suddenly didn't look at all like a boy's skinniness and at - his eyes drifted lower in fascination - at -
"You're a girl," he said in wonder.
"Jesus!" Austria snapped. "What did I just say?"
"No, I'm not," Hungary said. "I'm a boy. I told you, I'm a late developer."
"You look pretty developed to me," the German Order said. "Not that I spend time hanging out with naked girls," he added quickly. "I've got far higher moral standards than that."
Hungary's face was looking stormy and petulant. "I. Am. A. Boy," she said. "Austria? Tell him I'm a boy."
"He's short-sighted, not blind," the German Order said, and leant across to retrieve Austria's glasses from under the pillows. He opened the little box and jammed them onto Austria's nose. "Does that look like a boy to you?"
"Don't kill us," Austria said, which wasn't really an answer, but then the German Order saw that Hungary had leapt off the bed and picked up the sword he'd taken from Russia.
"Uh-oh," he said.
Ten minutes later, as they stood outside, naked and shivering in the snow, Hungary opened her shutters and tossed all their belongings out to land clattering around them. They dressed in cold, wet silence and trudged out of the courtyard.
"A few minutes more," Austria said in sudden fury, "you couldn't keep quiet for a few minutes more?"
"Oh, yeah? What do you think she'd have done if we'd done it and then said, By the way, you're a girl? We'd all be missing . . . bits."
Austria gave him a dirty look and stalked off towards Vienna. The German Order cast one longing look back at Hungary's window, and made his way back to his brothers and Grand Master.
* * *
1525
Prussia sprinted down the corridor, up a narrow spiral staircase and along another corridor where he skidded quickly into a room to hide in the garderobe, counting out a full minute silently to himself, then cautiously exited first the garderobe and then the room, walking as fast as he could without actually running till he at last came to the bits of the castle he recognised and he opened Hungary's door and slipped in, leaning back against it to surreptitiously bolt it. She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows.
"There you are. Where did you get to?"
"Oh, around," Prussia said airily, smiling peaceably at Austria who was lounging on Hungary's bed. That particular smile always irritated Austria, being one he had no reason to complain of. "Krakow's nice, this time of year."
"Congratulations on becoming a Duchy, Mary," Austria said snippily. "Do you think your liege lord's, like, totally freaking awesome?"
"I'm awesome," Prussia said, at the same time Hungary swiped the back of Austria's head in mild annoyance.
"Don't make fun of the way my friend talks."
"Ow. Sorry, Hungary."
Prussia mentally chalked up a point to himself. He'd made his own opinions on Poland clear plenty of times, but not today. If his Grand Master wanted to become a Duke and kiss the king of Poland's hand for it, then that was his business. Prussia had taken a vow of obedience, back when he was the German Order, and he'd obediently gone along with what his suddenly-a-duke had wanted, even though he hadn't been all that sure he wanted to be Prussia. Still, he thought, noting the way both Hungary and Austria seemed to have kiss-swollen lips, there were some advantages to this development. If he wasn't a monk any more then he didn't have to worry about breaking his monastic vows, for example. He strolled over and sat on the bed, conveniently blocking Austria's view of Hungary.
"That's a nice dress," he said, which was the fullest extent of his knowledge of fashion. It was a nice dress, and its green and gold colour made her skin look creamier, and her hair look more auburn and she'd been out in the gardens earlier running round hand-in-hand with Poland and had a nice sun-flush on her face and he had a horrible feeling he wanted to say something poetic, which made him both relieved and sorry that the only poems he knew were the psalms.
"Thank you," she said. "You look very nice too."
"It's a bit different than I'm used to," he said, meaning to follow it up with a joke about how the velvet and silk was a style to which he'd become accustomed, but all of a sudden all he wanted was to be wearing rough homespun and mail, and he fell silent, horribly afraid it was showing in his face. He was rescued by Austria - of all people! he thought - who squeezed his shoulder, a look of mild sympathy in his eyes.
"How do you feel?" Austria said.
Prussia shrugged. "It's - a lot. The towns and the townspeople, and the farmers - I'm used to it mainly just being my brothers - being the members of the old German Order." He gave them both a confident smile; no one ever bothered to look beneath his more obnoxious bouts of confidence. "I'll be the most awesome Duchy ever, you'll see!" He underlined it by lying back against Austria as if he were a rather uncomfortable cushion. He was a little surprised when Austria didn't complain, but instead put his arms round his waist.
"Hungary was saying that maybe you'd like to celebrate your new status," Austria said, his voice just that tone of light humour that said Look how hard I'm trying to be pleasant, you northern little oik.
Prussia looked at Hungary's wide smile, and how she seemed enthralled by the fact that Austria was now nuzzling against his ear, and he lay back more heavily on Austria who still didn't complain. He turned his head to smile lazily at him, thinking, You are so whipped, and then Austria kissed him and Prussia found it impossible to think of anything past the fact that he'd got a lot better at this since the last time they'd tried. Hungary came up and kissed his neck, unbuttoning his coat and sliding a hand in to tug at his shirt. Prussia reached up to cradle her head with one hand and half swayed towards her, half was moved by Austria so he could kiss her mouth. That went well, so he lifted his other hand and cupped her breast, wondering how he could ever have thought she was a boy. Hungary sighed into his mouth; it didn't seem a sigh of irritation or boredom, more an encouraging sound, and Prussia found every last niggling wariness he'd had about the day evaporated. He let Austria pull off his coat and wriggle him out of the shirt and laughed as Austria put his hands and mouth on warm bare skin, kissing and licking his way across the breadth of his shoulders. He didn't know why they always rubbed each other up the wrong way at first - Austria was clearly a man of distinguished taste and delicate skills. Hungary for her part was kissing his face, his mouth, his throat, leaving him feeling hotter and less able to speak with every passing second. When she climbed up on the bed with them, Prussia managed to remember how much he hated it when people stole a march on him, but how good it felt to do it to others, and got a hand positioned under her skirts on her calf before the thought was even half formulated. It was at this point, when he was half naked and Austria was trying to open his hose while still kissing him, and Hungary was also kissing him and shifting to make it easier for him to run a hand up her neatly muscled leg, that someone started yelling outside the bedroom door, and knocking in a way that seemed to presage knocking it down.
"Ignore it," Prussia gasped. "It's probably just someone who's got the wrong room." He had no real idea what was being shrieked out in the corridor; the door was blessedly thick and sturdily bolted, and he'd never been interested in learning Lithuanian swearwords. Unfortunately his new name could be heard quite clearly mixed in with the invective, and first Hungary and then Austria straightened up and looked at the door and back at him.
"What did you do?" Hungary asked.
"Nothing!" Prussia said, stung. "Really, nothing." The door rattled on its hinges and Prussia recalled just how severe a personality change Lithuania had when he really lost his temper. "I gave Lithuania something back that I took ages ago," he said. "I was being friendly. Remember that amber cross I had? I thought I'd give it back as a gesture of reconciliation, so I did, and I just told him he should be glad I got rid of its dirty pagan images and that anyway now that I follow Luther's theology it was my duty to bring him the Reformation just like I'd done my bit to help him convert in the first place, and he'd be happier once he stopped being a benighted Catholic. And then he chased me all over the castle howling for my blood. I have no idea why." He looked at their faces. "Seriously, what did I do wrong?"
"Are we benighted too?" Hungary snapped. "Well?"
"Um," Prussia said. "I'm not sure I'd put it quite like that -"
Outside there were now clearly two voices, Lithuania still yelling and - though the words couldn't be made out - what sounded like Poland trying to calm him down.
"I'll talk to them," Hungary said, rolling her eyes at the expression on Prussia's face. She slid off the bed and smoothed down her skirts before heading for the door.
"In trouble with your liege lord already," Austria said. "Fast work, Prussia."
"I'm not in trouble with him," Prussia said, peering over the end of the bed as Hungary opened the door and stood firmly in the centre of it to stop sudden charges. "I mean, it's not like I said anything against him or anyone, really. I can't help it if his toy-boy boyfriend is oversensitive about his filthy pagan past."
There was a pause in which the silence deepened more than Prussia liked.
"You could have said that at less than full volume," Austria said idly, as Lithuania tried to charge in, was grabbed by both Hungary and Poland and manhandled out the door, yelling in renewed fury. Prussia watched wide-eyed, and looked back warily at Austria, who flung himself back onto the pillows.
"This never works," Austria said, to no one in particular. "I don't know why Hungary insists on trying."
* * *
1741
Prussia grinned widely, the joy of battle sweeping over him as his horse galloped full-tilt towards the Austrian lines. They were far too late and too few to keep him out of Prague. He slashed an Austrian soldier across the face and was gone long before the man fell lifeless from his horse. It seemed mere moments before the city was his.
"A lovely place, my friend," France said, sitting elegantly atop his horse as the French and Prussian soldiers ran through the streets. "Let us hope they don't spoil all the pretty girls before we are finally at leisure to spoil them too."
"Uh-huh," Prussia said, not listening. It was always a shame when the fighting stopped and the screams from the civilians started. It seemed much fairer to keep such things between armies. He frowned and looked sidelong at France. "What did you say?"
"I said," France said casting his eyes towards Heaven, "did you hear that Hungary has rebelled against our dear friend in Vienna?"
Prussia laughed, loud and harsh. She'd be magnificent, he thought, like an Amazon. His classical education was lacking in many areas, but he'd seen engravings of Amazons in books of Greece's myths, and they didn't wear any clothes on top. The resulting reverie was broken only when France pummelled him on the shoulder.
"For God's sake, man! Take that drippy smile off your face and let's find something to drink."
By the time they'd got properly drunk, one of the Holy Roman Empire's Electors had proclaimed himself Archduke of Austria and Holy Roman Emperor, and made some rousing speeches about why women were generally useless and couldn't be trusted to run a kitchen, let alone a kingdom. Prussia was fairly sure he could hear the outraged screeching from Vienna, and wondered who had the higher voice, Austria or his favourite little queen? It was disappointing, once he'd sobered up, to discover Austria's queen had written nicely to him. Well not to him exactly, which was a bit rude, he thought, reading over Fritz's shoulder.
"No more fighting?" Prussia said in dismay. "But I've got the armies all ready for you!" It wasn't fair, he thought. He wasn't tired of fighting yet. Fritz gave him a look full of dry humour and passed him the letter to read again.
"I have no idea if Marie-Therese thinks she's getting a permanent truce without agreeing Silesia is ours," he said. "Personally I say we rest the men and attack in the new year."
"Yes, sir!" Prussia said in glee, and all but skipped off to spend the Christmas season with his allies. He found France playing cards with Poland, Sweden and Finland, while Spain sat muttering to himself in the corner, looking impoverished.
"Don't play cards with them," Spain said, draining a glass of Madeira. "At least it's possible to tell when France is cheating."
"I don't cheat," France murmured and rolled his eyes as Poland leant forward. "You just went! It's not your turn!"
"It's so totally my turn," Poland drawled. "Right, Finland?"
"Yes," Finland said with a cheerful innocent smile. "Poland, then me, then Sweden, then you, France."
"Dear God," France sighed. "All right, go on, then - where the hell did you get those cards, you little Slavic sodomite?"
"Thank you," Poland giggled, leaning forward and scooping up the purse in front of France.
"Cheating bastards," France growled. "They've been passing cards between them, Prussia. Some people don't understand what it is to be a gentleman."
"Dude, cry more," Poland said peaceably, shaking half the coins out into Finland's hand.
"See? Why would he share his winnings if they weren't conspiring to cheat?"
"As long as we're all facing the same way in battle I don't care," Prussia grinned. "Austria's lands are big enough for all of us, and if one of you losers really wants his boss to be emperor, go right ahead. I just want Silesia. This century, anyway."
"Long as I get the rest of Italy, I'm happy," Spain said, finishing off the rest of the good wine and moving on to the bottles they kept for moments of drunkenness and apathy. "I like Italy."
"We know," France said. "You've made it so worryingly clear."
"Hey, if everyone else is getting stuff - why is Sweden laughing?"
"I explained in graphic detail why you like Italy so much," France said with a winning smile.
Prussia heaved a sigh and went back out. The room was too full of nations, and none of them was Hungary. "She's too good for you! She's beautiful and strong and she smells like, like . . . sweets!" he yelled in the direction of Vienna, accompanying it with a series of obscene gestures. He had a strange crawling feeling between his shoulder blades and looked round to find Lithuania watching him, eyebrows raised. He made an obscure gesture that Prussia decided to interpret as some sort of Lithuanian mime for I know I'm a total loser and can never be as great as you, and went inside to join the others. All in all, it was a relief for everyone when the fighting broke out again.
*
The Austrian forces were routing, which was what they did best, in Prussia's opinion. Vienna was almost in his sights. He was going to haul that glasses-wearing, music-playing, soft-handed weed back north and make him a scullery boy. It would be wonderful. Right at that moment his spirit soared, and he saw Austria himself, sword in hand, facing off against Spain. A child peered round from behind Austria, plump face worried. Another child of much the same age stood by Spain, scowling. What the hell they were doing, playing round with kids on the battlefield, Prussia had no idea. It did seem to be distracting them, though, so he crept closer.
"You see, Italy wants to remain with me," Austria said in his fancy, fussy way. "You should be satisfied with South Italy, Spain. You and I shouldn't be fighting, you know that."
"I never wanted to fight you," Spain said sadly, holding tight to the scowling kid's hand. The kid turned its head and looked straight at Prussia who grinned and held a finger up to his lips. Screw that the kid mouthed, and tugged on Spain's hand.
"Spain!"
"I should probably go home," Spain said. "If only you hadn't been allied with England - none of this was personal, Austria, you know that, don't you?"
"Of course."
"Spain! Hey, pay attention, you bastard!"
"You need to bring that child up a little better," Austria said disapprovingly. "Children should be seen and not heard." He touched the child with him, one brief, approving pat to the head.
"Romano, shh, grown-ups are talking."
"Why am I the only one round here with fucking eyes? Prussia's right fucking there!"
"Surprise!" Prussia said, and got in a good blow at Austria, who moved backwards with the speed of the suddenly very scared. The kids fled shrieking, with Spain in pursuit. Austria got his sword up to parry and that was all he did from then on, Prussia pressing him back towards the gates of the city, their blades ringing together. "Did you miss me?" he said mockingly. "Don't you think your little queen will look pretty begging Fritz for her life? Maybe he'll offer her a safe home away from everyone who wants to be emperor, and I can visit her every day!" Austria's look of desperation hardened into fury and he flung himself forward, doing his best to drive Prussia back.
"You're not setting foot on one more single inch of my lands!" Austria said.
"Pffft," Prussia said. "You and what army? I don't know if you've noticed, but yours is sort of running away."
"Really?" Austria said, and smiled a prissy little smile. "Idiot."
Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Prussia stepped back cautiously, feeling horrible all over. What on earth - He looked behind him and gasped. Hungarians. Thousands of Hungarian cavalry forces were tearing into his men. "No," he said blankly. "She rebelled. She rebelled against you!"
"Oh, didn't you hear?" Austria said pleasantly. "She came back. Ah - by the way -" He nodded at something to the side, and Prussia turned to see a huge horse bearing down on him, Hungary on its back, dressed in coat and breeches like a man, sword upraised.
"Christ!" Prussia shrieked as he barely parried in time, and sparks flew from their blades. This wasn't good - The horse reared up, its intent to smash its enormous hooves down on his head clear in its expression, and Prussia ran. "Get off your horse and face me like a man!" he yelled. "Bloody girls, wanting some unfair advantage in battle!" To his surprise it worked.
"There are no circumstances I can't kick you from one end of a battlefield to the other!" Hungary yelled, and slid from the horse's back. She ran at him and attacked in a flurry of blows that kept him busy and distracted from Austria for long enough so that it was an unpleasant shock when he realised he was facing two opponents.
"I'm so glad you could make it," Austria said, doing his best to smile at Hungary while directing a blow at Prussia's thigh.
"Someone has to keep you out of trouble," Hungary muttered, trying to hide a little smirk.
"Stop leaving me out!" Prussia screamed, and kicked Austria's feet from under him. Austria's sword flew up in the air and Prussia caught it, stabbing it down and through the sleeve of his coat, pinning Austria to the earth. A second later he hit the ground himself, all the breath gone from his body as Hungary slammed into him. His head spinning, Prussia saw her reverse her grip on the sword and aim a punch of the guard at his face. He caught her wrist and held on, not wanting his teeth shattered. Hungary straddled him, trying to keep him down with her weight as she fumbled for a knife with her other hand. Prussia put all his effort into one last try and wrenched her sword away, then grabbed her hair and pulled her down, and kissed her. All the sounds of battle stopped, and he could hear only his own heart, hammering in his chest as she glared at him, wide-eyed. Then her own hand was tight in his hair and she was kissing him back. Prussia pushed them both into a sitting position, so he could keep an eye on Austria, and enjoy his irritation at what was happening. It was a good thing he did so, he decided, seeing Austria trying to fumble with a pistol, one-handed.
"C'mere," Prussia said, and hauled him up, tearing the sleeve of his coat on his own sword. Austria fought against his kiss at first, then did his best to flatten Prussia down into the mud once more, his tongue in his mouth. There didn't seem to be much point in delicately taking off their clothes, seeing as they were all covered in mud, so Prussia just tore Austria's coat open and ripped his shirt down from the neck. Austria's hands were trying to do the same on his breeches, though the slippery mud was making it harder work. It was a better use of all their hands to get Hungary out of her coat and shirt, and to touch her hot skin. An Amazon, Prussia thought, kissing her breasts. Perfect. Austria had managed to work a hand into her breeches and was kissing her face and neck, his expression enraptured despite the mud on his glasses.
"Get your damn clothes off," Hungary gasped. "Both of you, now!" She arched up against Prussia's mouth and Austria's hand, laughing.
Trumpets sounded, far too close.
"What -" Austria said, squinting and trying to see what was interrupting them.
Horses began to stream past them, cavalry officers yelling orders in Hungarian. Prussia peered in the direction they were coming and winced. The Prussian forces had regrouped and were coming in, fast.
"Um. Sorry," he said sheepishly, "my armies -"
Austria and Hungary both looked at him with identical frustrated expressions.
"Now?" Austria said. "You have never had any sense of timing, new boy."
"My name's not "new boy"," Prussia snapped.
"Come on," Hungary said, rolling her eyes. She pulled on her coat and grabbed up her sword. "Honestly, Prussia," she started, then just shook her head and leapt back onto her horse, pulling Austria up behind her. The horse wheeled round and sprang after the retreating cavalry. Prussia closed his eyes and lay back in the mud, hoping it was Fritz who found him first. France would never let him live this down.
* * *
1990
After the shouting was over and the Wall didn't spring up of its own accord again, Prussia found himself a little overwhelmed by, well, everything, not that he was going to admit it. He'd expected - he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it wasn't, Brother! I'm so happy to see you! By the way, I'm seizing your lands and people. Which was unfair to West, he thought, because what nation could withstand their people's wishes? Both his people and West's had wanted to be one, so that was the end of it. There was no point in acting like a spoilt little kid, especially because that was what West so obviously was waiting for. It was hard, because Prussia really wanted to whine and mope, but that wouldn't look awesome.
"You should build up the army," he said. "Armies are always good for upping employment."
"The army's big enough," West said, poring over his account books.
"I meant it about the employment," Prussia said, just to be clear. "It wasn't a Hey, West, fancy a military tour of Europe again?"
"Don't joke," West said.
"Oh, sorry, am I failing at being German? Displaying some un-Teutonic sense of humour?"
"Don't joke about that." West looked up, his face worried as usual. "People might talk."
Prussia shrugged and wandered round the room, picking things up just so he could leave fingerprints on them. He could feel West itching to jump up and start polishing everything clean. It was very sad that his brother was such a houseproud loser. He needed to get out more. "Hey, West, why don't go you go and drop in on Italy? I'm sure he'd love to see you."
"I can't just visit people unannounced."
Prussia silently mimicked him, then turned back with a big smile. "It's not "people" I'm talking about, it's Italy. He never calls ahead when he comes here. And you love it."
"I do not."
"You do too."
"I - I'm not getting trapped in one of your silly arguments," West said. "I'm too busy to make social calls."
"Hey, I'll do your work for a few days, you go and have fun -" Prussia almost had his hands on the account books when they were whisked away, West clutching them to him like they were his favourite grandchild.
"No! No, thank you."
"How about I look after the health service? That'd take some of the pressure off you. I used to be a hospitaller order, you know, I'm good with the sick."
"Leave my health service alone," West said in horror. "I'm sure you ran yours to the best of your ability, but -"
Prussia crossed his arms. "But what?" West was starting to blush, a horrible blotchy red that didn't look good with his fair skin at all. "But I couldn't possibly ever have done anything as good as the lovely, perfumed, sainted West? You and the rest of them?"
"I'm sure you did the best you could, under the circumstances -" West started.
"Circumstances forced on me and my neighbours, and now your people call mine whining Ossis -"
"Brother, please," West said. "You know that's not what I think. Some people are just rude, that's all." He paused, and went redder. "I don't mind you thinking they're still yours, just - try not to say it in public. It's - inaccurate."
Prussia held his breath. None of the things he wanted to say would make any difference. The silence lengthened till West was about to explode from embarrassment; Prussia laughed as loudly as he could. "God, West," he said, "lighten up, you'll live longer. I'm not hanging round while you play with numbers, I'm going out."
"To meet Hungary?" West said, sounding relieved that his big brother wasn't going to start weeping and fainting like a wilting flower.
"Huh?" Prussia said.
"She rang earlier. Here, she left a message -"
Prussia took the card and glanced at the name of the hotel, written in West's neat, careful handwriting. "Yeah, I'm meeting her," he said. "I'd forgotten the hotel, thanks for writing it down." West nodded, clearly willing to pretend he believed Prussia had known. He headed out the door and paused. "Seriously, West, go and see Italy, you're too tense. It'd do you good to get laid." The sputtering and denials followed him as he left; he grinned more genuinely and stuck his head back round the door. "West, please. All of Europe knows." West's expression was the best thing he'd seen all day, and he was in a far better mood as he strolled into town.
The hotel was nicer than he'd expected; Hungary was recovering too, and none of his old neighbours had much money to spend on holidays. He stood in the lobby and looked at the shining wood and brass, the expensive, old-fashioned fittings. This place wasn't cheap; he hoped he could convince her to eat and drink somewhere more affordable. He pulled out his wallet and checked his money. Damn it, he thought. He should have asked West for a loan, which wouldn't have been a loan because he had no way of repaying him. He shoved the wallet back in his pocket and glared at the chandelier. Nine centuries old and I have to ask my kid brother for pocket money?, he thought. Screw that. Maybe I still have time to rob a bank -
"Prussia!"
"Hi," he said, turning with his biggest smile. "Nice hotel."
She grinned at him and kissed his cheek, linking arms with him to swing him round. She still smelled sweet, though her clothes weren't as nice as she usually liked them. To be truthful, Prussia thought, Hungary was looking a bit unfashionable, a bit like she'd been careful of her clothes too long and could no longer disguise the threadbare patches, and a bit tired and washed-out, like she'd had too many worries and too brief a moment of freedom to wipe them away. Like him.
"Let's have a drink," she said.
"Somewhere less snobby," Prussia said quickly. "There's a place I saw up the road -"
"Sure," she said, and went with him to the cheap pub he'd made note of. He bought himself the cheapest beer they had, which left him enough drinks money to buy her a glass of wine and a packet of crisps. "Thanks," she said. "Is that what you usually have?"
"Felt like trying something new." She was lovely, he thought. Even with her hair still looking dull from the damage done to her economy, and her out-of-style clothes, she was still lovely. "Hungary -" he said, and kissed her, his fingers on her cheek. She smiled into the kiss and opened her lips for him. He very much wished they were somewhere private, as he pulled back and sipped his drink, watching the laughter in her eyes. "Why did you marry him?" he asked, which wasn't what he'd wanted to say at all, but she had and it hadn't been fair, and she and Austria had found a way to leave him out, forever.
"It was good for my people," she said, not regretful at all. "We were pushed into it by them, you know that." She smiled, a wicked, private smile. "He went down on one knee -"
"Loser," Prussia said automatically, and winced as she slapped his arm.
" - and he quoted poetry and begged me to do him the honour of accepting his proposal of marriage, which was a much nicer way of putting it than our people came up with. Compromise." She snorted in offended amusement. "How is it that you never quoted poetry to me?"
"I don't know many poems," he said, "And they're mostly in Latin." He took a deeper swallow of his beer. "Columba mea in foraminibus petrae, in caverna maceriae, ostende mihi faciem tuam, sonet vox tua in auribus meis, vox enim tua dulcis et facies tua decora. How's that?"
"See? You can do it if you try. Though I'm not sure I'm peaceful enough to be called a dove."
But your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely, he thought, though he couldn't quite manage to say it.
"Come on," Hungary said, downing the last of her wine and standing. "We need to go back to the hotel for dinner."
"I'm not really hungry," Prussia said. "Let's go for a walk."
"Maybe later." She bent down to whisper in his ear. "Come on, Prussia, Austria is paying." When he didn't move she sighed in irritation. "Up! We're going to dinner, and you can be nice to him." She pulled him up and linked arms, leaning into him. "Don't look so forlorn," she said. "It's eighty years since he and I got divorced, we can all be friends now." She marched him out the door and into the street, where he had to give up and actually walk properly, lest people see him being dragged bodily along by a woman.
"It's a rare day Austria opens his wallet. If he's paying, I'm having a starter and dessert," he said.
"Damn right," Hungary grinned. She broke away suddenly, and waved. "Austria!"
She ran down to the hotel, going up on her toes to lightly kiss his lips. Prussia followed more slowly, and stood before them; then Austria surprised him for the first time in centuries, and hugged him.
"Prussia. It's good to see you." His clothes were a lot better than either Prussia's or Hungary's, and he looked nowhere near as tired as Prussia felt. "I'm so glad you're back here."
"Only natural," Prussia said. "You've fancied me for almost a thousand years. Let's eat!"
Austria didn't look even the slightest bit irritated; he just clapped Prussia on the shoulder and took Hungary's hand, and led them to the hotel restaurant. Prussia grabbed a menu and got ready to order lobster for at least his starter and main course. Possibly he'd have a third one with ice cream as dessert. He paused, reading the menu - Or, he thought, I could have something I actually like. This looks pretty good.
"Are you sure you want a stew?" Hungary said, once they'd ordered.
"Yes," Prussia said. "I like plain food. It's more masculine," he added, smirking sidelong at Austria. There was no need to say it was comfort food or that he could imagine sitting and eating with Fritz. When it came, it was delicious, and he forgave Austria's fussing over exactly which wine went with stew. After, he sat in a pleasant food-haze; he could walk it off on his way back to West's house, he supposed.
Hungary stood up and held out her hand. "Come with me."
"OK," Prussia said, and folded her hand into his, liking the feel of her fingers. She led him away while Austria settled the bill, and pulled him into a lift. "Where are we going?"
"Up," she smiled, pressing a button for the fifth floor. She wound her arms round his neck and kissed him, laughing a little into his mouth as he held her tight, then led him out into a corridor, and to a door. The room was large and comfortably furnished, with a big bed, a pleasant desk and a small two-seater settee facing the TV. Hungary kicked off her shoes with a groan of relief. "You men don't know how easy you have it," she said. "Would you like another drink?"
"Sure," Prussia said, and watched her crouch down to examine the contents of the mini-bar. The only thing he wanted was for her to kiss him again. "Anything."
She poured them both a brandy and sat by him on the settee, sipping it. Prussia wondered how hard she'd hit him if he just jumped on top of her. Not that he would, it would look like he was desperate, and he wasn't. Much, he thought. Kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. Hungary just sipped her drink, looking at him in amusement. After a few moments more she set her glass on the floor, lifted her skirt a bit to make it easier to move, and straddled his legs, a knee on either side of him. She laughed as he tried to put his glass down, and then just swallowed his brandy down in one mouthful when it proved too difficult. He wrapped an arm round her waist to keep her from slipping off, and stroked her ass with the other hand. Charging straight at any problem had rarely failed him, and even when it had, it was always fun while it lasted. She didn't slap him, so he tried the effect of squeezing her ass too, and she pushed him back against the cushions to kiss him into submission. He barely noticed when the door opened and Austria slipped in.
"Hey," Austria said, squashing in beside them. He put his arms round both of them, and kissed first Hungary then Prussia. "Wouldn't you rather be more comfortable?"
"That's the worst line ever," Prussia said. "Haven't you ever seen a romantic film?"
"I meant it literally," Austria said, looking a bit confused. "I just think the bed's more comfortable."
Hungary chuckled, and climbed off Prussia's lap. "He's right," she said, and hauled Prussia up after her, spinning him round and pushing him onto the bed. "Where were we? Ah, yes -" She climbed back on top of him and kissed him again. He pulled her tight against him so he could feel her against his whole body and laughed with joy as she rocked her hips against him. It was only a little inconvenience when the mattress dipped and Austria lay beside them, one hand stroking down Hungary's back. She turned Prussia's head so Austria could kiss him, then dropped a quick peck on his cheek before rolling off. "I just want to take my tights off," she said. "I'll be right back." As Austria kissed him again Prussia watched her out of the corner of his eye, dropping her rings onto the desk, then unselfconsciously unzipping her skirt to land in a ripple of fabric around her feet, and rolling her tights down carefully. She pulled her top off too, tossing it to one side.
"Oh, God," Prussia said at the sight of her standing there in her underwear, and Austria laughed, quite kindly.
"Yes, I entirely agree," he murmured, and undid Prussia's trousers. "Is this all right?" he asked, and slipped his hand into Prussia's underwear.
"Oh, God," Prussia said in wonder, pushing up into his hand. "You and your fucking finger exercises!"
Austria laughed, a lot. He laughed more than Prussia ever remembered him doing, which was both interesting and sort of alarming to see. It also made it difficult for him to do what he'd been doing with his long, clever fingers, so Prussia smacked him on the shoulder till he got control of himself. "Sorry," Austria wheezed, "sorry." He sat up and pulled off his own shirt, then started undoing Prussia's, a task made more difficult when Hungary got back on the bed and Prussia tried to drag them both on top of him at once. It got very tangled and no one could do much, but he didn't care.
"He's not even undressed," Hungary said.
"We can solve that, can't we?" Austria said, smiling at Prussia, and sorting them out so he could finally lose the shirt. He kissed him again, working his way down, kissing and sucking at his collarbone and chest. Prussia held on, stroking whatever bits of either of the others came within reach, feeling quite overcome. It was only natural they both wanted him, of course, even as kids they'd fancied him. It was just that he wanted them so very much, and wished he could find a way to say it without sounding like some sort of soft-hearted, soft-headed loser. He settled for touching them very gently, trying to resist just hugging them so tight they couldn't move. Hungary was kissing his chest as well now, and they were both still creeping down, which he didn't want to think too much about, in case it didn't happen and he was disappointed.
"Do you want to or should I?" Hungary said, and it must have been meant for Austria, who replied,
"I don't mind. Whatever you prefer."
"Where's the -"
"Bedside cabinet, in the drawer." Austria came back up to kiss Prussia's mouth again, leaning on him heavily. He wasn't as gangly and sharp-elbowed as he'd been when younger, his limbs and body more padded with his adult weight.
"His legs will go to sleep," Hungary said. "Don't worry, Prussia, I'll move him."
"I'm fine," Prussia said, but she wasn't listening.
"Don't be selfish," she said in a low voice. "Really, Austria, we talked about this -"
"Sorry," Austria said. "It'll be easier once I get the rest of his clothes off."
"Don't leave him to do it by himself," Hungary said.
"You don't have to talk over me like I'm not here," Prussia said, grinning.
Hungary patted his shoulder. "We're not. You don't have to worry." She turned her attention back to Austria. "Don't let him get upset."
"Sorry," Austria murmured, shifting so he wasn't on top of Prussia any more. It felt a little cold to no longer have him pressed so close.
"I'm not upset -" Prussia started, but Austria hadn't said it to him. Hungary gave Austria a meaningful look, a sort of I lived in your house for centuries and then I married you and you know exactly what this look means, so behave yourself level glance, then turned back to Prussia with a bright and happy smile, fitting herself back into both his and Austria's embrace. Prussia frowned. She kissed him again, but it didn't feel like it had before, and neither did Austria's touch. He wasn't really sure how it had happened, but it had all turned from something they'd been doing with him to something they were doing to him. Hungary's hand joined Austria's, both of them stroking him slowly. It felt oddly - orchestrated. Oh, my God, he thought in horrible, cold shock. None of this was to do with him at all. He was just there to make things more interesting for them, like some sort of toy. It took a lot of effort not to shake from sheer humiliation, but he managed not to do more than flinch a little.
"Are you all right?" Austria said, what sounded like real worry in his voice. "Did I press on a nerve? Are you cold? Can I get you something?"
Prussia sat up and looked at them both, at their concerned expressions and felt his heart sink even lower, thinking about how nice they had both been to him, how Austria hadn't said even one snippy, stuck-up thing. The truth was worse than he'd thought. They were sorry for him. Poor little Prussia, he thought bitterly. Loses his lands, loses his people but we can at least give him a pity fuck. The last remnants of his desire flickered out; Austria looked down at his hand's position and back up, a little too determinedly casual.
"Don't worry," he said, "it happens to everyone, you'll be all right again in a minute."
"I should go," Prussia said.
"What? No -"
"Why?"
"I have to go," Prussia said and did his level best not to throw them off the bed. He couldn't look in their faces, he thought - he'd drop dead from shame. Which was the kind of thing losers thought, so he looked them defiantly in the eye, and watched them realise he knew. They made no effort to stop him dressing or leaving, which hurt as well. Don't be so stupid, he thought. He might have lost everything that people thought was important, but he still had his pride, and it got him to the door without running.
"Prussia -" Hungary said, her voice small and lost.
"Relax, I'm fine," he said and was surprised how normal he sounded. "I'll see you around. You should come to West's place and put fingerprints on things, it drives him up the wall." He grinned and was out the door, safe where they couldn't see how he staggered from the sheer weight of his misery. He thought he heard Hungary crying, but it was far too late to care about any of that.
He'd be fine, he thought, wiping at the irritating moisture in his eyes. He took deep breaths of the cold air as he came out into the street, telling himself to calm down. It was a long walk back to West's, and no one would be surprised if he went straight to bed. He didn't think he'd have to worry about crying himself to sleep; he was down on his luck, sure, but that didn't have to mean he'd turned pathetic as well. I'm the German Order. I'm the Duchy and Kingdom of Prussia dammit, he reminded himself as he got his fast walk down from retreat to something more like man with somewhere to go. He fixed his most obnoxious smile on his face and forced himself to look two passing girls in the eye and wink. "I'm the fucking German Democratic Republic," he said conversationally and strode past before he had to listen to them speculate on the sanity of drunken Ossis. What did he care? They weren't his people, he owned no human or nation a damn thing any more.
He forced all thoughts from his head and kept walking.
* * *
Part Two