[fic] Become One With Canada (Hetalia; PruCan) 2/25
People wanted to know more about the reactions of Prussia's family and friends, and thus I attempted to write a short fic on the topic.
...it didn't turn out that short at all. This is the first part.
Zum Geburstag Viel Gluck part 1
by exorcistor
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
People/pairings: Prussia, Canada, Germany, Italy and Austria
Word count: 1555
Genre: humour, general
Rating: worksafe
Note: New Prussia is a geographic location in Wilmot Township, Waterloo Region, Ontario, Canada. Un-beta’d.
---
About one week before it had been exactly one year since Prussia moved in, Canada said:
“Why don’t you invite your family for your birthday?”
Prussia, who was occupied with dangling Kumajirou upside down from its back paws, while the polar bear growled at him, stopped laughing to stare at the nation.
“My birthday?”
Canada raised an eyebrow. “You forgot?”
Prussia stared at him. Kumajirou took the opportunity to reach up and bury his craws in Prussia's wrist. The albino swore and dropped him onto the carpet, after which the animal gave him an offended look before he walked out of the room, heading for the kitchen's specially installed cat door. After Canada had fussed over the scratch marks for a short amount of time, Prussia pointed out that he didn't have a birthday. Sure, the day he’d won the title of Kingdom had been pretty amazing, but he’d never been able to settle for one, he said, there were too many awesome days of glory in his history to pick one.
There was also the fact that he no longer held that title. It still stung a bit, not that he would admit that. Instead he continued with a grin that betrayed nothing of his moment of gloom:
“Just kinda figured I’d dedicate every day I feel like it to myself, y’know?”
The look on Canada's face were one of such complete confusion that he felt the need to explain, either way.
"Not one that I can remember, anyway. It's been pretty damn long, you know?"
Canada's eyebrows furrowed. "But... What about the tenth?"
Prussia's face copied his host country's expression. So did his mouth. "What about the tenth?"
"The tenth of March." When Prussia still looked like a living question mark, Canada added; "When... when you moved here."
...oh.
"...I have a birthday?"
"I guess... if you want to..."
As he thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded to him that he, the amazing Prussia (Kingdom or no Kingdom) didn't have a day of his own, marked as a big fat holiday when the sky poured beer upon everyone and all food tasted like wurst and käsekuchen and maple syrup... The idea was silly, completely absurd; of course he had to have a birthday of his own! One that people wouldn’t forget, ever, because it was part of his new and brilliant history.
"...I have a fucking birthday!" he cried, flinging his arms into the air. "Presents and cake and fireworks all around!" Canada blinked, quite startled, as the ex-nation burst out in an honest laugh, and got to his feet dancing around the room as he sang "Zum Geburstag Viel Gluck, zum Geburtstag viel Glück, zum Geburtstag, lieber Preuβen" at the top of his lungs and geneally behaving like America high on sugar. But in German.
Finally, he stopped before Canada, beaming.
"We should invite everyone," he exclaimed. Canada smiled softly.
"I'll start cleaning out the guest-rooms."
---
“I didn’t even know bruder had a birthday,” Germany mumbled over the phone to Austria, feeling slightly guilty about the fact. “He’s never mentioned it to me before…”
“That is because he doesn’t,” Austria replied haughtily. “I hope that you realize that he is pulling your leg, Germany. And attempting to do the same with mine. And poor…”
“Canada,” Germany reminded him.
“Ah, yes. Poor Canada’s as well, seeing as he’s made the boy agree to host the feast for him.”
While Germany protested (surely, not even Prussia could be as bad as to use the trusting, kind nation in this manner… however, he had spent an awful lot of time at Canada’s place over the past year -much more time than he spent at Germany’s place, to be honest), he had to admit that Austria could be right, and that he was a fool who still wanted to believe in his brother’s ability to be nice and considerate. He wasn’t always a loud-mouthed fool and he didn’t always spend his days thinking of the best to make Germany’s life and that of everybody else around him a mess.
Not always.
Just most of the time.
There was a huge difference between an ‘ability to be’ and a ‘wish to be’, after all.
Still, he was his brother, and Germany had rarely heard Prussia sound so sincere as when he’d invited him and Italy both to come stay at Canada’s over the weekend. He couldn’t just discard his brother’s request, not when he sounded so uncharacteristically serious and even hopeful.
So in the end, he’d convinced Austria that a bit of Canada’s fresh air and landscapes could do his inspiration good. Italy on the other hand didn’t need much convincing at all. He’d wasted no time throwing himself into a discussion with Germany about the ‘perfect gift’ for Prussia. Germany just sighed and told him to do what he wished. Italy beamed and promised he would, he would think of the ‘best, nicest, prettiest, simply best gift for Prussia’. He would!
Germany instantly regretted his words.
---
Germany had made sure to tell Austria to meet them at the airport well before the scheduled check-in time, but the other nation still showed up half an hour late. By that time, Italy had managed to; get himself lost twice (2), buy one (1) huge ice cream, get a brain freeze from said ice cream, catch the attention of the entire airport as he cried loudly into Germany's shoulder and finally perked up at the promise of being allowed to feed the blond man the rest of the ice cream by hand. Once again causing the bigger part of the people around them to stare.
Germany wanted to go home. The thought of spending ten hours crammed into the small space of an air plane together with Italy and Austria made him wish that he could remember some very important meeting about the balance of his national budget over the past fifty years he had to attend this weekend.
Or that someone could bomb him.
Or something.
But no one came to Germany’s rescue, and when they’d finally collected Austria - who complained rather loudly about how the hotel Germany had chosen for him wasn’t up to standards (“And then the staff told me that they did not, in fact, have a grand, not even in the lounge. The offered me the hired band’s keyboard instead. A keyboard! Really, Germany, were you trying to kill me?”) - they could proceed through check-in (the woman behind the counter gave Germany a long, sympathetic look which he wasn’t sure if he appreciated or not) and finally, after another half-hour, to their seats. On Austria’s insistence, he’d gotten them first-class tickets, so at least he wouldn’t have to hear any whining about there not being enough leg-space, or champagne.
Small - and expensive - favours.
---
It took about half an hour before “oooh look at that, we have our own tv!”, “do you think they’ll serve pasta for dinner?”, “look, Germany, that cloud looks just like brother France! It even has his rose~” and “I can order anything I want? Really? Do you have strawberries?” turned into “Ve~ Are we there yet?”.
Germany wished he’d booked another flight for himself.
At least Austria had found a radio channel with ‘acceptable’ music amongst the many options the plane offered, and was sitting with his eyes closed, a cup of coffee on the table before him.
Italy hung over Germany’s knee to look out the window. Germany had made sure the Italian got the window seat at the beginning of their trip, but ten minutes after take-off, the smaller nation had gotten tired of the clouds and insisted they switch so he could talk to the personnel (consisting only of attractive women; Germany figured that was what Italy had discovered as well) instead. Therefore, every time he now wanted to have a look out the small circular hole, to see if they could spot Canada yet, he now had to stretch across the tall blond. Germany grit his teeth and concentrated on his news paper.
Ten hours. Just ten hours. You can do this, Deutschland.
“Germany, do you want a strawberry?” Italy asked, and held one to Germany’s lips before he’d even had a chance to answer. He looked at the other nation, and caught a glance of two of the stewardesses, who weren’t only pointing towards the two of them, small blushes on their faces as they giggled and whispered between themselves, but they were also ignoring their duties towards the other passengers.
Unacceptable. And they were supposed to represent his people’s level of service.
When the two women finally disappeared behind the curtain again, it was only to turn up again, carrying a tray directly over to Germany and Italy, though neither of them had called for service. The woman smiled sweetly as she bent over them.
“Would the gentlemen like some additional cream and melted chocolate with the strawberries?” she asked.
Italy’s smile could have rivalled the sun shining through the small window. “Really? That is sooo kind of you, signorina~! Germany, look, we got extra cream, isn’t that nice! Germany has such good service on his planes~”
Germany wondered if this would be a good opportunity to see if his experience as a paratrooper were still up to standards.
---
Previous | Next
Note the second: I am well aware that Prussia's birthday had been said to be on the 18:th of January (the day he was officially declared a Kingdom by his current ruler), however, in his own blog he states that he cannot remember the date.
...it didn't turn out that short at all. This is the first part.
Zum Geburstag Viel Gluck part 1
by exorcistor
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
People/pairings: Prussia, Canada, Germany, Italy and Austria
Word count: 1555
Genre: humour, general
Rating: worksafe
Note: New Prussia is a geographic location in Wilmot Township, Waterloo Region, Ontario, Canada. Un-beta’d.
---
About one week before it had been exactly one year since Prussia moved in, Canada said:
“Why don’t you invite your family for your birthday?”
Prussia, who was occupied with dangling Kumajirou upside down from its back paws, while the polar bear growled at him, stopped laughing to stare at the nation.
“My birthday?”
Canada raised an eyebrow. “You forgot?”
Prussia stared at him. Kumajirou took the opportunity to reach up and bury his craws in Prussia's wrist. The albino swore and dropped him onto the carpet, after which the animal gave him an offended look before he walked out of the room, heading for the kitchen's specially installed cat door. After Canada had fussed over the scratch marks for a short amount of time, Prussia pointed out that he didn't have a birthday. Sure, the day he’d won the title of Kingdom had been pretty amazing, but he’d never been able to settle for one, he said, there were too many awesome days of glory in his history to pick one.
There was also the fact that he no longer held that title. It still stung a bit, not that he would admit that. Instead he continued with a grin that betrayed nothing of his moment of gloom:
“Just kinda figured I’d dedicate every day I feel like it to myself, y’know?”
The look on Canada's face were one of such complete confusion that he felt the need to explain, either way.
"Not one that I can remember, anyway. It's been pretty damn long, you know?"
Canada's eyebrows furrowed. "But... What about the tenth?"
Prussia's face copied his host country's expression. So did his mouth. "What about the tenth?"
"The tenth of March." When Prussia still looked like a living question mark, Canada added; "When... when you moved here."
...oh.
"...I have a birthday?"
"I guess... if you want to..."
As he thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded to him that he, the amazing Prussia (Kingdom or no Kingdom) didn't have a day of his own, marked as a big fat holiday when the sky poured beer upon everyone and all food tasted like wurst and käsekuchen and maple syrup... The idea was silly, completely absurd; of course he had to have a birthday of his own! One that people wouldn’t forget, ever, because it was part of his new and brilliant history.
"...I have a fucking birthday!" he cried, flinging his arms into the air. "Presents and cake and fireworks all around!" Canada blinked, quite startled, as the ex-nation burst out in an honest laugh, and got to his feet dancing around the room as he sang "Zum Geburstag Viel Gluck, zum Geburtstag viel Glück, zum Geburtstag, lieber Preuβen" at the top of his lungs and geneally behaving like America high on sugar. But in German.
Finally, he stopped before Canada, beaming.
"We should invite everyone," he exclaimed. Canada smiled softly.
"I'll start cleaning out the guest-rooms."
---
“I didn’t even know bruder had a birthday,” Germany mumbled over the phone to Austria, feeling slightly guilty about the fact. “He’s never mentioned it to me before…”
“That is because he doesn’t,” Austria replied haughtily. “I hope that you realize that he is pulling your leg, Germany. And attempting to do the same with mine. And poor…”
“Canada,” Germany reminded him.
“Ah, yes. Poor Canada’s as well, seeing as he’s made the boy agree to host the feast for him.”
While Germany protested (surely, not even Prussia could be as bad as to use the trusting, kind nation in this manner… however, he had spent an awful lot of time at Canada’s place over the past year -much more time than he spent at Germany’s place, to be honest), he had to admit that Austria could be right, and that he was a fool who still wanted to believe in his brother’s ability to be nice and considerate. He wasn’t always a loud-mouthed fool and he didn’t always spend his days thinking of the best to make Germany’s life and that of everybody else around him a mess.
Not always.
Just most of the time.
There was a huge difference between an ‘ability to be’ and a ‘wish to be’, after all.
Still, he was his brother, and Germany had rarely heard Prussia sound so sincere as when he’d invited him and Italy both to come stay at Canada’s over the weekend. He couldn’t just discard his brother’s request, not when he sounded so uncharacteristically serious and even hopeful.
So in the end, he’d convinced Austria that a bit of Canada’s fresh air and landscapes could do his inspiration good. Italy on the other hand didn’t need much convincing at all. He’d wasted no time throwing himself into a discussion with Germany about the ‘perfect gift’ for Prussia. Germany just sighed and told him to do what he wished. Italy beamed and promised he would, he would think of the ‘best, nicest, prettiest, simply best gift for Prussia’. He would!
Germany instantly regretted his words.
---
Germany had made sure to tell Austria to meet them at the airport well before the scheduled check-in time, but the other nation still showed up half an hour late. By that time, Italy had managed to; get himself lost twice (2), buy one (1) huge ice cream, get a brain freeze from said ice cream, catch the attention of the entire airport as he cried loudly into Germany's shoulder and finally perked up at the promise of being allowed to feed the blond man the rest of the ice cream by hand. Once again causing the bigger part of the people around them to stare.
Germany wanted to go home. The thought of spending ten hours crammed into the small space of an air plane together with Italy and Austria made him wish that he could remember some very important meeting about the balance of his national budget over the past fifty years he had to attend this weekend.
Or that someone could bomb him.
Or something.
But no one came to Germany’s rescue, and when they’d finally collected Austria - who complained rather loudly about how the hotel Germany had chosen for him wasn’t up to standards (“And then the staff told me that they did not, in fact, have a grand, not even in the lounge. The offered me the hired band’s keyboard instead. A keyboard! Really, Germany, were you trying to kill me?”) - they could proceed through check-in (the woman behind the counter gave Germany a long, sympathetic look which he wasn’t sure if he appreciated or not) and finally, after another half-hour, to their seats. On Austria’s insistence, he’d gotten them first-class tickets, so at least he wouldn’t have to hear any whining about there not being enough leg-space, or champagne.
Small - and expensive - favours.
---
It took about half an hour before “oooh look at that, we have our own tv!”, “do you think they’ll serve pasta for dinner?”, “look, Germany, that cloud looks just like brother France! It even has his rose~” and “I can order anything I want? Really? Do you have strawberries?” turned into “Ve~ Are we there yet?”.
Germany wished he’d booked another flight for himself.
At least Austria had found a radio channel with ‘acceptable’ music amongst the many options the plane offered, and was sitting with his eyes closed, a cup of coffee on the table before him.
Italy hung over Germany’s knee to look out the window. Germany had made sure the Italian got the window seat at the beginning of their trip, but ten minutes after take-off, the smaller nation had gotten tired of the clouds and insisted they switch so he could talk to the personnel (consisting only of attractive women; Germany figured that was what Italy had discovered as well) instead. Therefore, every time he now wanted to have a look out the small circular hole, to see if they could spot Canada yet, he now had to stretch across the tall blond. Germany grit his teeth and concentrated on his news paper.
Ten hours. Just ten hours. You can do this, Deutschland.
“Germany, do you want a strawberry?” Italy asked, and held one to Germany’s lips before he’d even had a chance to answer. He looked at the other nation, and caught a glance of two of the stewardesses, who weren’t only pointing towards the two of them, small blushes on their faces as they giggled and whispered between themselves, but they were also ignoring their duties towards the other passengers.
Unacceptable. And they were supposed to represent his people’s level of service.
When the two women finally disappeared behind the curtain again, it was only to turn up again, carrying a tray directly over to Germany and Italy, though neither of them had called for service. The woman smiled sweetly as she bent over them.
“Would the gentlemen like some additional cream and melted chocolate with the strawberries?” she asked.
Italy’s smile could have rivalled the sun shining through the small window. “Really? That is sooo kind of you, signorina~! Germany, look, we got extra cream, isn’t that nice! Germany has such good service on his planes~”
Germany wondered if this would be a good opportunity to see if his experience as a paratrooper were still up to standards.
---
Previous | Next
Note the second: I am well aware that Prussia's birthday had been said to be on the 18:th of January (the day he was officially declared a Kingdom by his current ruler), however, in his own blog he states that he cannot remember the date.