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inkstaineddove · 4 years

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Dancing With the Devil

Ships: AusHun, PruHun; PruAus of some king if you squint

Characters: Austria, Prussia, Hungary, Maria Theresa, Frederick the Great, Britain; mentioned Russia and France

Summary: To bring some joy back to Vienna after the Second Silesian War and win more allies, Austria and Maria Theresa decide to throw a ball. They also convince themselves that inviting Prussia will lead to only his humiliation, but he has a plan of his own.

April 1746, Vienna.

Humiliated. Austria had been humiliated by an upstart kingdom taking control of one of his richest provinces. Ever since the ink on the treaty dried where he was forced to recognize this coup by Prussia, he’d been working furiously to secure some sort of alliance with the others. Britain, that traitor, couldn’t be counted on. He harrumphed, scribbling out letters to France and Russia. Unscrupulous bastards, how he loathed that he must turn to them. But, he supposed, beggars can’t be choosers…

“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” He snapped, hearing the door to his office open. He didn’t remove his eyes from his work.

A soft clicking of the tongue. “Now, Roderich. Is that the way to properly greet your sovereign?” Maria Theresa glided into the room, smiling faintly. “You can’t let the barbarians steal your manners too.”

He stood, bowed, and kissed her hand. A quick rectification. “My apologies, your majesty. I assumed you were someone else.” He moved to sit again only once she had, intently following royal protocol now. “I’m sure you share my frustrations.”

“Naturally. Which is why I believe we need something to look forward to, to bring some joy back into these halls.” She sighed dramatically. “These last eight years have been marred by misery. We’re to throw a ball next month. I miss dancing and we can show the ambassadors that we haven’t been hampered in the slightest by recent events.”

“Well, if it’s for diplomatic purposes then I can hardly be opposed to it.” Roderich would be lying if he pretended that the concept upset him completely. He’d been out campaigning for so long that he missed most of the ball seasons over the last few years. It would be nice to don the clothes an aristocrat and catch up on the latest gossip with his equals instead of galloping around the countryside with undisciplined commoners. “I suppose you want me to get working on a guest list now?”

“That’s why I’m here. I wished to help you craft this one.” She waited for him to ready himself with a fresh piece of paper. “The Russian and French delegations are a must and they need to be given all the works. Showing the Swedes a proper respect would be advisable as well. If you find it won’t be too hard on you, I would like the Spaniards to come.” She noticed him roll his eyes and chuckled. “I’m trying to be courteous. Oh, right! The Saxons should be welcomed. As should the Bavarians and any of the smaller states you think could provide us with something beneficial.”

“Is that all? No Britain?”

She tapped a finger to her chin, mulling it over. “Send them an invitation a little less than a day before. Shows them our displeasure but isn’t too unreasonable. Now, that’s all squared away. There was something you were telling me.”

“I was?” Roderich slipped the paper in the top drawer of his desk. He racked his mind for whatever she meant. “Would you please tell me what, exactly, I was saying?”

“Before he invaded Bohemia, you were filling me in on all the others of your kind. Letting me know all the gossip and news surrounding them.” Maria Theresa fiddled with one of her rings, reminding Austria of when she was a child. “You filled me in on everyone else in the empire except our little nuisance.”

“I told you everything there is to know about Brandenburg. He’s not a complicated character.” He knew exactly who she was angling for, but he would play the fool. He’d spent too much of his thoughts on that damn creature, he was haunted by him every waking moment now. But his queen was giving him such a look, it became impossible to keep his resolve. Austria sighed, defeated. “What do you care to know about Prussia?”

“Oh, stop playing like this! I want to know everything there is!” She noticed his pained expression and laughed. “Come on, Roderich dear. Wouldn’t it be a joy to use everything we have against him? We’re working the presses hard to print out every nasty rumor about his king. Why not go after both of them?”

There was something he could go along with. In fact, Roderich was willing to wager that it might actually be enjoyable. This was a war he could easily win. He made himself comfortable in his chair, a smile breaking free. “What isn’t there to say about him? He’s vile, he’s garish, and completely uncouth. Ever since we were children his only concern has been killing things – bugs, pagans, heretics. Now, lucky me, he wants to kill Austrians.” He licked his lips, remembering a juicy tidbit. “His crusading is rather humorous considering how often he was sent to the pyre. He’s always looked demonic. If you spend your days around zealots with that appearance, you get what you asked for.” He smiled wistfully. “He did make good cinder though.”

“Roderich, that makes him pitiable.” Maria Theresa wrinkled her nose, imagining the smell of burning flesh. “Please, talk about anything else.”

“My apologies, I got lost in the good times.” He noticed her horrified look. “He’s still alive! And we were children then! If you knew how often many times he shot my eye out with arrows or gutted me with his sword, he wouldn’t seem so sympathetic. It was a different period. Now we…still impale each other. Some things never change, do they?”

“Roderich!”

“Right, right! Not what you want to know!” He tapped his fingers on his desk, trying to remember anything else interesting. He realized he was stuck too far in the past. There was something she would get a kick out of. “Ridiculous, how could I possibly forget? Not like they’ve had much time to see each other recently. Maybe this war wasn’t all for nothing.” He smiled wide, enjoying the imminent implosion. “He and Erzsébet have relations. Been happening for a century now.”

“With our Erzsébet? With Hungary?” He watched her upset grow until it completely overtook her. “That scoundrel! How dare he!” She smacked him in the arm. “And you only tell me this now! Eight years I’ve been on the throne and now, now, is the opportune moment! Why the delay?”

“Don’t assault me! We were in the middle of a crisis! I figured my personal life could wait till after.” Austria straightened his jacket. “This isn’t something I’m exactly proud of, your highness. It’s bad enough that every time I see Britain or France they feel it’s of vital importance to mention. I try not to let it consume more of my waking days than necessary.” He quickly shushed the voice in his head reminding him that his conscience spent a great deal of time plotting against this whole matter already.

“Great, so George and Louis knew all about this before me. My dignity is a joke to everyone in Europe, isn’t it?” She clutched a hand to her chest, wincing in agony. “My poor heart. How many more of these crushing humiliations will I be subjected to? I won’t last much longer at this rate.”

That familiar vein in his forehead twitched. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. Snapping at his sovereign would result in nothing good. Calming breaths. “You worry too much. They would be foolish to consider any of this a reflection on you.” The unspoken ending was that, if anything, it would be a reflection on him. He grimaced considering that. “We can use this to our advantage if we’re smart.”

Maria Theresa’s composure returned. “You’re right. It shouldn’t be too difficult to dissuade Erzsébet from that ruffian. I remember being a young woman. Men like that – so wild and unrestrained – always weasel their way into your affections. They present something new and exciting. Then they leave, casting you aside for whatever cheap thrill they can find in some whore’s bed while you’re left picking up the pieces of your shattered self-esteem.” She spoke with surprising emotion. Waving away whatever phantom memories lingered, she smiled at Roderich. “She will realize that a man like you or my dear Francis is much better. Polite, predictable, so willing to listen. A good partner mustn’t challenge you in such a way as a man like that does.”

“You underestimate her. They’re equally culpable. Don’t let her con your generosity.” This was the opposite of comforting. He slumped in his chair, chuckling bitterly. “No wonder she runs around with him. How your majesty describes Gilbert makes me want to fall in love with him! There’s likely a much more polite way of telling me I never had a chance!” That familiar pulsation in his forehead again. “I’m sorry, but please don’t try and console me further.”

“For a man to be predictable is a good thing! Let the women have all the passion and the spirit and the spunk! If the men could keep to themselves, I wouldn’t be working with an empty treasury.” She imagined Frederick, the man causing all her troubles, groveling before her. It provided her second wind. “Now, quit this self-pity and think! What’s this Prussia character like in a suit?”

“Rather like a donkey. You can dress it up all you like, but it’s still a jackass in the end.” Austria paused, seeing where she was going. “Are you really going to invite him? He would try to sabotage the whole thing!”

“It’s certainly a possibility. He could also – and I believe this is most likely since I trust he’s as incompetent as you say – make a complete fool of himself before everyone. Doing so would guarantee us all the allies we possibly need and remind our dear Erzsébet that her little…thing is beneath her breed. Make him the first invitation we send out.”

Austria quickly wrote one, not caring if it wasn’t his best penmanship. Such efforts would be wasted on Prussia. He noticed a streak of brown hair disappearing past the door. “I trust your judgement if you’ll trust mine.” He cleared his throat. “Magyar!” Hungary stepped into the room. He slipped the envelope into her hands. “A favor. Would you be so kind as to deliver this to Berlin or wherever your paramour lays his head?”

Hungary glanced between her queen and her superior, distrust eating at her. “This is too easy. What’s the catch?”

“There is none. Can’t I do something nice for you?” He waved her away. “Go, enjoy what time you two have left together.”

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much!” Maria Theresa warned, her voice stern.

Hungary’s suspicion grew. But what could she do? She didn’t trust either of them as far as she could throw them, but she had no evidence of their plot. She would have to bide her time. Curtsying, she shuffled out the door and began mentally planning what to wear for her arrival.

---

Sanssouci Palace, Potsdam.

Frederick strolled through his palace, his eyes fixed on the letters gripped in his hand. War was over. Now, it was time to govern and flex his muscles domestically. He passed through the Marble Hall. He had been cooped up inside for too long. Some fresh air in the gardens was needed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted two figures. “Gilbert, strange woman.” He turned back on his heel. “For the last time, Gilbert, stop bringing your whores here.”

“She’s not a prostitute, this is Erzsébet.” Gilbert aimed a forced grin at his king.

“I’m aware that they all have names. Run along, dear. He doesn’t pay very well.” She refused to budge. Frederick sighed. “Must you always bring home the stubborn ones?”

“She’s Hungary!” Prussia hissed through gritted teeth. He couldn’t recall ever being so embarrassed.

“Then give her some food and send her-” Frederick blinked slowly. A crisis had to be averted. He politely bowed. “My sincerest apologies. Despite never shutting up about you, this moron never bothered to give me a portrait.” Forcing back his irritation, he slipped into an easy smile. “What brings you here? I hope you don’t bring any declarations of war.”

Hungary’s last couple of hours had been stressful. She had no idea what the greater ploy Austria and Maria Theresa were up to and why she needed to play messenger in it. Nor was she overjoyed at her warm welcome by Prussia’s disrespectful king. She needed something to provide her some entertainment. She handed him the envelope she’d been tasked to deliver. “Why, I haven’t the slightest idea. It could be anything.” She met the king’s gaze. “You understand how grudges work. This was really all I came for. I’ll be on my way.”

Gilbert scrambled alongside her. “Do you really have to leave so soon? Why all the rush? You’ll get back to Vienna late. You don’t want to spend the night here, that’s fine. The old man snores. There’s plenty of space in my home for the two of us.” He took her hand in his before the door, pleading with his eyes. “At least let me walk you out.”

The ends of her mouth curled up in a smile. “There’s no need. It’s a rather dainty palace, isn’t it? I promise I won’t get lost. You be good.” She shot a look at Frederick. “And you. Do us a favor and stay out of Bohemia.” In a flurry of skirts, she was gone as quickly as she arrived.

Now alone, Gilbert released his consternation. “Fritz, next time, just fucking shoot me. If you really care about me, spare me the agony.” He ran his hands through his hair, groaning. “I can sabotage myself without your help.”

“Why are you blaming me? Whenever I’ve wanted to know what that woman looks like you’ve only told me bullshit like ‘more beautiful than Helena of Troy.’ Which is wonderful, but it doesn’t help me pick her out in a crowd!”

“Who else would I be staring at like this?” Gilbert’s expression shifted into that of a lovelorn fool. His eyes softened; a wide grin lit up his face. He looked idiotic in that charming way lovers do. He dropped the act as soon as it appeared, dismissing it with an eye roll. “That whole routine might’ve set me back fifty years.”

Despite knowing about Gilbert’s kind his whole life, being reminded of their immortality never disturbed Frederick less. “Does it matter? Time is meaningless to you lot.” He shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. He had a treasury to refurbish and a new province to integrate. “I can’t be bothered with all this now. This damn envelope could hold our death sentences and we’re bickering like a bunch of old maids.” He opened it and tossed the card aside after reading its contents. “It’s a fucking invitation to some ball. Who gives a damn?”

Gilbert snatched it out the air and skimmed it over. He thought he recognized Roderich’s handwriting but disregarded it. Didn’t all those pompous aristocrats write the same? “It could be fun. Who doesn’t love dressing up and dancing the whole night away?”

The king began heading for the gardens again. Fresh air. Fresh air would clear away this whole mess. “Well, if my memory serves me correctly you don’t. You’ve always been adamant about how much you loathe these events.” He shot Gilbert a look over his shoulder before chortling. “I get it. You’re only looking to get some pussy. Have some more dignity than this. You know as well as I do this is likely some little ploy to humiliate you, and me by extension.”

Gilbert’s cheeks turned bright red. “That’s not the only reason! We could get…alliances out of this! It could improve our diplomatic situation! I’m not walking into anything!” He held open the door to the gardens for them both. “Fritz, you’ve got to trust my instincts! I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve been doing this for centuries.”

“Your instinct is the reason why I’m so afraid. You’re incredibly reckless and prone to bouts of what I can only assume are insanity. You’ll ruin whatever good name we have left. That’s why I can’t allow you to go.” Sitting down at the table, he examined his papers, ignoring Prussia’s exaggerated pout. “Stop pushing out your lip that far. You look like a grotesque duck.”

Change of tactics. “Isn’t that Italian here? Wouldn’t it be so much easier to have your fun with Algarotti if you sent me and a few delegates off to Vienna for a weekend next month?” Gilbert rested his chin on his hands. His eyes carried such faux innocence. “Didn’t seem like too many men were sneaking into your tent late at night these last eight years.”

Frederick glared at him over the letters. “Is this really the game you want to play at?” Seeing his smirk, the king scowled. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this. You can go, but you will have chaperones and I will appoint them. I don’t want any minister going that finds your whole act adorable. It’ll lead us straight into another war!”

“I promise, I won’t let you down, Fritz!” Gilbert puffed his chest out and stood straight. “You can trust me.”

“No, you will. At least, have it be funny when you do. I want some amusement before the Austrians invade.”

---

June 1786, Vienna.

The ball was gorgeous. Everyone was looking their best, the orchestra never sounded so sweet, and the food was first-class. All the finest luxuries in the world brought together. The guests were thrumming to-and-fro, enjoying the conversations amongst themselves.

Gilbert loathed it. He stood at the bar, filling his drink as quickly as he could empty it. The strongest drink he could get his hands on was watered-down scotch. It was a disgrace. He scanned the crowd again. What was the point in being here if he couldn’t find her? Wasn’t that the whole meaning of his trip?

A tap on his shoulder. “I’m no one to judge, but how do you expect to gain any allies chatting up the bartender?” Arthur smiled wide. “Seems so unlike you to linger so far away from the center of the action.” He nodded at the bartender, who refilled his glass of brandy. “Hard to stun the crowd from the sidelines.”

“Why would I want to waste my talents on a bunch of stiffs? They’re not going to appreciate my work. Now, if you don’t mind.” Gilbert began peering around the Briton. “I’m waiting for someone. Francis has to be around here somewhere. Hang around him instead.”

So that’s why Gilbert was here. Everything made sense. An impish grin broke out across his face. The night would provide him with some good entertainment. “Erzsébet’s welcoming guests with Roderich and her majesty. I could take you over and introduce you as I’ve already paid my respects.” He tugged Gilbert’s sleeve, dragging him through the throngs of people. “Come along, let’s get this started!”

“I don’t need a wingman.” Gilbert straightened his jacket, huffing. “Seriously, you can run along now.”

“Please and miss out completely? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Prussia rolled his eyes. With friends like that, who needed enemies? Arriving before Austria and Maria Theresa, he bowed. “Roddy, I forgot what you looked like without a uniform. Much more natural than seeing you posturing with a gun.” He attempted to kiss Maria Theresa’s hand, but she jerked it away. “I take it that your majesty knows who I am already. On behalf of his Prussian majesty, we sincerely thank you for the kindness of this invitation and everything it represents.” He looked back at Britain, who gave him a thumbs up. He’d nailed it, there would be no war declared.

As if to undo any good work he’d managed, Hungary materialized besides the queen. “That Russian delegation can talk your ear off. Next time, please don’t sacrifice me to them. I don’t want to hear about the intimate details of their personal dramas.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him. She gave a subtle wink and smirk to Prussia. “Oh, Gil. How rude, I didn’t see you there. I’m so glad you came.”

Restraint. He needed to practice restraint. He was in the presence of important company. There could be no mistakes. Then he saw Roderich. Roderich, standing there looking intemperate, grinding his teeth, glaring as if begging his foe on. Gilbert was overcome. He forgot himself. Erzsébet was too beautiful and Roderich too irritating to deny himself such sweet joys. Gilbert took her hand in his and kissed it. “I had to. I didn’t want to miss seeing such a beauty.” His lips trailed up her arm, holding eye-contact with Roderich the whole time. “How could I stay away?”

Austria opened his mouth to speak, but Hungary beat him to it. “Daring tonight, aren’t we?” After speaking loud enough for all surrounding parties to hear, she leaned in close to Prussia’s ear. “If you get war declared on you for anything you do tonight, remember that I actually like this queen. I don’t think you can afford to be this reckless in front of her.” She gently, yet firmly, pushed him away.

Point noted. Flustered, Gilbert took a step back. “Right. Well, it was nice to see everyone. I’ll be…somewhere else.” He spared one last dejected look at Erzsébet before scampering off with Arthur on his heels.

“I’m impressed. What on earth did you say to him?” Roderich moved besides her, reflexively putting a hand on the small of her back. Realizing neither of them liked the gesture, he removed it.

“I told him I would meet him in the gardens later if he wouldn’t be so obvious.” She laughed at his frustration. “Don’t be so glum. I’m still upset about Silesia. I promise, it’ll be hate sex this time.”

“How comforting.” Austria moved to take his place besides Maria Theresa. “Now you understand what I’ve been dealing with. Everything is personal with him. None of the other states give me this much trouble. Why can’t he be more like Bavaria?”

Maria Theresa looked much more crestfallen. She cradled his face in her hand, unable to meet his gaze. “You poor man, what a terrible situation.” She peered up at him through her eyelashes. “You’re a cuckold.”

He forced his eyes shut. What a disaster. The promise of the whole night was disintegrating before his very eyes. “Your majesty isn’t helping.”

“You’re not helping yourself either! Standing around, looking so shocked at everything. Have some life, impress her, show everyone that you’re not passive in affairs of the heart.” She waved her hands away from her. “Do anything but stand around here and talk to me!”

“Why do I want her to fall in love with me?” Seeing the fire in his queen’s eyes, Roderich quieted his protestations and took his place besides his wife. “I’m being held here against my will.”

“Aren’t we both? Don’t feel too special.” They shared a conspiratorial look before breaking into giggles.

The orchestra began a new piece. Roderich caught himself humming. It was one of his favorites. He held out his arm. “Would you grant me the honor of a dance?”

“It is only fair to give your date at least one. Especially when he’s such a fantastic dancer.” She let him lead her to the floor. They began twirling around, hitting all the marks in time. She envied how naturally this all came to him. “It’s not fair for you to be so talented.”

“So kind of you to think so. You’d be disappointed to know that it’s less talent and more centuries of being forced into the role of a gentleman. Though, it is a natural fit.” He gained some contentment from her easy laugh. There was almost something enjoyable in this. “See, Erzsébet, it isn’t all bad. The lady protests too much.”

“You would think I complain too much about anything. There could be a freeze and you would think I’m ridiculous for bemoaning the chill. I’ve been quiet recently. No major rebellions. Be thankful.” She closed her eyes, getting lost in the music. “Please, be quiet. If you don’t talk then I can pretend that I enjoy your company.”

A simple enough request. Besides, the dancefloor was no place to settle differences. Roderich complied, happy for the momentary respite in their relationship. He could imagine this as normal for them, this peace with no screaming matches. No threats of violence against each other or their people. That they were any ordinary married couple who tolerated each other just enough to not end in scandal. The very idea thrilled him.

The very idea was interrupted by their Prussian scandal. Gilbert tapped Roderich’s soldier, a lupine smile on his face. “May I cut in? I couldn’t resist.”

Erzsébet moved to take his hand. She was met with air. She found Roderich and Gilbert in an embrace, the former looking incredibly determined while the latter was exasperated. “It would be rude of me to deny you, wouldn’t it?” Roderich nodded at Erzsébet. “Don’t wait up.”

“What are you doing? Let me lead!” Gilbert hissed. The fight for dominance began immediately. He winced, feeling Roderich’s heel dig into his toes. “That’s my foot. You be the woman, you’re the feminine one!”

“Why would I take orders from you? You’re used to being subordinate, follow my lead.” Roderich yanked them the opposite direction Gilbert was taking them. “I know exactly where I’m putting my feet.” For good measure, he stepped on Gilbert’s foot again.

Prussia bit his lip, forcing himself not to yelp in pain. He wouldn’t give the other man the satisfaction. His nails dug into Austria’s lower back, finding pleasure in his pain. “Why are you doing this? Let me have my dance, it doesn’t take anything away from you. You never let me have what I want.”

Austria couldn’t force back his laugh. It was maniacal. “Really? That’s funny, that kingdom you’ve got says differently about my generosity. If anything, I’ve been too accommodating to you. Silly me, thinking compassion would civilize you.” He sneered. If he gripped Prussia’s hand tight enough, maybe he could manage to break a few fingers. Wouldn’t that be a sight? “You’re a brute. You don’t deserve what you’ve got.”

“You’re going to talk to me about deserve? You, Little Master, born with a golden spoon and so hell-bent on his divine authority? You’ve never worked for anything in your life.” Prussia snarled, all teeth. “Unless you count laying down beneath Spain and taking whatever he gave as work.” He twisted Roderich around. “This way!”

“You stay out of my marriages!” Austria’s face was red with indignation and embarrassment. “What happens in my bedroom is of none of your concern!”

“You’re right it’s not. But what doesn’t happen is and I know there’s been a whole lot of nothing in there.” He put a hand on Austria’s cheek. Prussia’s eyes were swimming with sickening contempt. “I’ve never understood why everyone’s so desperate to marry you. You can hardly fulfill your spousal duties and then you wonder why some vagrant like me can come in and take them over. It’s a shame, really.” He winked. “Wouldn’t change it for a thing.”

“You’re pathetic. Are you that jealous of everything I have that you’ll never be satisfied? I would pity you if you weren’t so loathsome.” He smacked Prussia’s hand away. “Your inferiority must eat you alive. Anything you could ever want, I hold it so firmly in my grasp. How do you handle it?” He looked the Prussian up-and-down. “Obviously, you don’t. What man in full control of himself would go to such lengths to humiliate himself in such ways at every given opportunity?” They were dancing on the edge of a cliff and, oddly enough, Roderich couldn’t bother to care. His mind, his whole being, was completely focused on eradicating this blight. If he went down too, fine. Such would be the price.

“Because you can’t resist me either. Sure, I may look like a fool to everyone, but I’m not alone.” Prussia’s breath stung hot against Austria’s ear. It sent a shiver down his spine. “You live to roll around in the mud with me. Face it, Roddy, you’d be lost without me.”

Hungary shoved them apart, breaking the spell of their mutual madness. Her voice was hushed. “A few things. Do you two do that often because, for some odd reason, that was incredibly arousing. Amazing. I’m blushing.” They shot her a look. Her cheeks burned a deeper shade of red. “Never mind. Maybe this you’ll find important: you two were very loud. Everyone heard and now they’re staring.”

The two men dared to look away from her. She was right. All eyes were on them. Roderich met the gaze of an incredibly upset Maria Theresa. His mouth suddenly became very dry. “Gilbert, I think we’re in trouble.”

Gilbert, for his part, had made eye-contact with the minister who was supposed to be his chaperone tonight. Podewils looked ready to unleash his full wrath. “You don’t say.”

The three of them were ushered into one of the nearby rooms. While they waited for the queen and minister to arrive, Hungary took it upon herself to lecture them. “What were you two thinking! What compelled you to revert back to children!” She shook her head. “Forget children, a whole pack of toddlers would’ve behaved better! I’m ashamed of you both!”

Gilbert was slumped on the sofa, his head buried in his hands. “This wouldn’t have happened if he let go of his pride and didn’t jump in between us! But no, little Roddy always has to show me up.” He cast a pitiful glare at his cousin. “Do you feel like a big man now?”

Roderich had his back to them as he stared outside the window. “Are you seriously blaming me? If you knew how to conduct yourself in front of polite society, none of this would’ve occurred! Instead, you’re the one who must constantly show he’s no slouch! That he can do whatever he wants, that he can work with the adults!” He turned around now, a cold fire burning in his eyes. “You can’t, Gilbert! You don’t have the pedigree to operate at these strata! Get these delusions of competition out of your mind, embrace your place in life and then you’ll find yourself much happier.”

“Right because it was fine for you to grab the laurels of power, but anyone else who wants it obviously can’t handle it. You should be thankful that-”

Maria Theresa burst into the room. “Silence! Both of you, shut up! For the love of God, stop talking!” She narrowed her sights on Prussia first. “How dare you! You vile little creature. We kindly invite you into our palace, into our capital, and you show us this kind of disrespect? Have you no self-restraint? No understanding of how to manage yourself amongst men? I shouldn’t be surprised. You invite a beast, he’ll behave like a beast.”

Roderich forgot himself. He sneered at Gilbert. “See? It’s apparent to everyone that you are the most wretched creature on the planet. Why bother carrying on at this rate?”

Maria Theresa’s rage turned on him. She began striding towards Roderich. “And you. I’ve never been more humiliated in my life! How foolish of me to ever put my faith in you. You were such a good man, Roderich. So intelligent, so capable, so dependable. Was my trust misplaced? How ridiculous it seems now, to believe you were ever capable of behaving in an acceptable manner.” She had him backed against a wall. “I look at you and I want to be angry, but how can I be? How can the strong be angry at the weak? Roderich, I know now you’re a weak man.”

Podewils cleared his throat, reminding everyone of his presence. “Your majesty, you have my deepest and most sincere apologies for tonight’s mishap. I can assure you that his Prussian majesty does not endorse the conduct of this most insolent and moronic man who should frankly be ashamed of the dishonor he’s brought on his own people!”

The queen rolled her eyes. “Oh, quit it monsieur. I’m not declaring war.” Her eyes narrowed, settling on a subdued Roderich. “If I was, I’d have to declare it on my own people first.” She huffed, straightening up. “Frankly, I want to forget this whole matter as soon as I possibly can. This night has been a complete wash for all of us involved. All I want is for you and that, that thing to leave Vienna as soon as humanly possible. Now, if you don’t mind,” she left the room in a flurry, slamming the door shut behind her.

All the wind returned to Gilbert’s sails. He rose and clapped Roderich on the back. “All’s well that ends well, Roddy. I ruin your little party and I face no repercussions. I say that’s a good resolution for us both.” He quirked his head to the side. “What’s up with your eye? Did you always have that twitch?”

“Get off me!” Roderich shoved him away. His breathing was ragged. “Why must everything revolve around you? Why must you always hijack everyone’s attention and steal away whatever remnants of my dignity remain from our last incident? You are no better than any other vermin, I’ve got half a mind to-” He cut himself off, a moment a clarity cutting through the haze. He straightened his jacket out, striding for the door. “You’re a plague among Europe and now I’m suddenly seen as a victim. I’ve got all the most important diplomats outside. Why am I continuing to tussle with you? What worth do you have for me?” Hand on the doorknob, he cast one last look at a surprised Gilbert. “Enjoy your victories while they last, Preussen.”

Unconcerned, Gilbert slid over to Erzsébet and snaked an arm around her waist. “Now that we’re away from prying eyes, I never got to properly tell you how gorgeous you look tonight. If I’m remembering correctly, didn’t you promise me a stroll through the gardens? I think the roses are in bloom.” He kissed her hand, holding her gaze the whole time. “A quick one. Before I have to leave.”

She was smiling, but it lacked any real warmth. “The moments passed, Gil.” She clutched her hand to her chest, appraising him. “We’re not exactly friends right now, are we? Do you have any idea how many men of mine you murdered after your ridiculous incursion?”

“Not at all, but I remember seeing you leading them in battle. You know what that does to me.” A smile like a wolf. She thought him depraved. “A little animosity can help to spice things up. You should know that from living with him so long.”

“How’s this for animosity?” She dug her heel into his foot, putting all her weight into it. For good measure, she twisted it in, sending a shock of pain up Gilbert’s spine. He’d never seen her so spiteful. It drove him wild. “You should be satisfied from humiliating Roderich in such a way and, if that’s not enough,” her lips brushed against his ear. He felt his heart beating through his chest. “Use your hand.” He watched her exit the room, silently begging her to stay.

Instead, the only touch he received was Podewils yanking at his elbow. “We’re leaving now. Before you can manage to worm your way into further trouble.”

Glum, he let himself be dragged along. “Relax, Heinrich. All my trouble left with her.” Sighing, he tried to muster up some fake cheer. He managed to genuinely find some. “What are we worrying for? The old man said I’d be fine as long as whatever happens is funny.” He snickered. “And, admit it, this whole mess is hysterical.” If he could laugh at Austria’s expense, didn’t that count for something? Who cared how it ended for him, as long as that prick was sufficiently embarrassed, he could rest easily at night. Yes, that was all that mattered, forget his tattered dignity and what he couldn’t have. Austrian suffering was the most beautiful reward of them all.

#aph prussia #hws prussia #aph austria #hws austria #aph hungary #hws hungary #APH Old Fritz #hws old fritz #aph maria theresa #hws maria theresa #hetalia #aph #hws #aph fanfic #hws fanfic #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #historical hetalia

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inkstaineddove · 6 years

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A Boy and His Fritz

Pairing: Prussia/Frederick the Great

Characters: Prussia, Frederick the Great

Summary: Someone corners Prussia about his relationship with Frederick the Great. Prussia repeats their sorry history confronting many emotions he would've preferred to keep in the past.

He was always obnoxious, arrogant, way too prideful and stubborn. He was a prince. He was my prince. I should've expected as much, but he still found new ways to surprise me. Like that bullshit with von Katte, but that's later. We gotta get to the early stuff. He pissed me off. God, I couldn't stand him for the longest time. His dad was my boss so that had something to do with it, for sure. Frederick William only wanted compliance. I was the first person he got it so completely from, never questioning what he demanded of me. Vader, Germania, he died when I was pretty young. I was always eager to please my kings to get one of them to see me as their own son. Frederick William was easiest to imagine it happening with cause he hated his kids so much. He was so hard on them. Beating them with canes and calling them things I can't repeat even now...my God. It was a mess. I’ve got no room to judge. I can’t claim any moral superiority. I participated, I helped, I believed he was in the right at the time. Especially with Fritz. It hurts when the heir to the throne only speaks French, only wants to dress French, read French, and pretty much wants to be French. It hurts when he rejects everything that your nation represents. The only thing I had then was the military. He rejected that, thought it was unimportant when the arts and literature and playing his fucking flute were more important. Heh, maybe I'd still be around if he'd stuck to his guns on that principle. Then again, I'd be like Bavaria or some shit and I don't think I could handle that.

I remember when he tried sneaking away to England with his boyfriend. It was the only thing he’d done until then that I’d respected. The kid had balls to get that many people to disobey the king and help him sneak off. Especially cause he managed to make it so they didn't even get their hands dirty. Ja, I was furious because it felt like he was running away from me instead of just the king. It was real personal. When he got back, I hit him. I hit him and I cursed him out. The look in his eyes then. He didn't see me as any different than his father. I was an extension of him, the embodiment of everything he'd wanted to escape from. It was disgusting. I was disgusting. I never apologized to him for that. For how I treated him for his entire princedom. I always meant to. I always found a reason to pussy out. Funny, huh? I'll run head-on towards an army that'll crush mine without fear, but I'll always chicken out whenever it comes to people. Guess I'm a bit of a coward. Ya'know what it was like watching his boyfriend die? Katte, he didn’t do anything wrong. We knew back then he had tried to stop Fritz. It was all for show. If Frederick William couldn’t kill his son then he needed to kill somebody. Katte happened to be the death that would hurt the most. The poor guy, even his last words were for Fritz. How much he loved him, how loyal he was, how he'd die like this a thousand times. It was so sappy. Wish someone would say that for me when I go. I don't know which image haunts me more - the actual beheading or the aftermath. Seeing Fritz starve himself, lock himself in his cell for days, refusing to talk to anyone or respond to letters. It was scary. He didn’t want anyone to look after him. Frederick wanted to die and, even worse, the king would’ve been fine with it. Later on - years later, close to his death - I told Fritz what I'd done. I confessed to him how I'd been in the camp encouraging the execution of Katte. I had been double dealing, going back and forth and telling Frederick William what wasn’t mentioned in official reports. I collapsed at his feet, clinging tightly to Fritz's hand as I begged for forgiveness. He didn't respond for the longest time. I was pretty sure he hated me again. If he did, I don't think I could've handled that. I looked up, saw a few tears running down his cheeks. He pulled me up and held me close. He told me I'm a bastard, that of course he forgives me, told me I was the only one he had left and made me promise to never mention the event again. Shit, I feel like his ghost is gonna haunt me now for this. Should I mention his wife? He sure as well never did. Poor Elisabeth. I kept trying to get her to go back to her family in Brunswick. Go someplace where she was wanted and where she was loved. That woman was the epitome of stand by your man. She refused. She actually loved him. She cherished the few times she would see him, the few letters he'd send her. None of it was romantic. He was always really formal around her, but who was I to burst her bubble. The marriage made Fritz somewhat happy and the king very happy. I was content cause my job was easier and how gay he was would get around soon enough. Voltaire really did an awesome job with that. There was such a buzz when he became king. I found myself dragged into it as well, despite technically mourning Frederick William still. I know he denounced Machiavelli a few months before, but that was bullshit. This was an exciting time for us. He’d study our armies with such frantic energy, continiously reforming and expanding them. War was coming. Of course, I was gonna win! It's me! I don't lose when I've got a great leader. I'm too awesome for that shit. The Silesian Wars. What started it all. Meeting Austria face-to-face in the field kept me alive for centuries. From then till the Seven Year’s War, that was the climax of our little rivalry. People can claim the Austro-Prussian War as it, but what do they know? They weren't alive then, they weren't alive for any of it. Only him and I know when it was. And it was in our fights for Silesia, for more than Silesia. That was just a front. It was always about who'd become the dominant force among the rest of our family. Who’d control the Germanic states. Ya'know, sometimes I wish he would've won it all. I wish that he'd kicked me out of unification. Maybe I'd still be on a map. Maybe I'd be allowed at these meetings and would have my contributions to history be seen as a positive thing instead of a thing leading up to...well, you know. It's the most pointless fantasy, but I always slip into it. Can you really blame me? Dammit, I keep getting sidetracked. There's so much in this shit, it’s impossible to not think about everything. This was the best time of my life, but it’s all so bittersweet. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’d wished they’d gone on longer or if they’d never happened. Shit, that's unawesome to confess to. I'll go on. France and Saxony were absolutely useless in the Silesian Wars. It was all me. Ja, they were technically there, but what did they do? I carried the weight. I was the true hero of the day. I don't mind. It's my name that goes down for the win. The recognitions all that matters in the end, right? Fritz was in the limelight. He was the talk of Europe and he knew it. Everyone was intrigued by us, trying to guess our next move. We were a powerful team. I'm not surprised Napoleon studied us so much. I would too if I were him. We had courtiers from France, Britain, even fucking Russia knocking on our door! You know what was awesome about Fritz? He told them all to fuck off. Didn't want anything to do with them. He just wanted to be left alone with his friends, his dogs, and his flute. I think that's where I got that from. The period between the Silesian Wars and the Seven Years War, that was the good time. He wasn't a paternalistic man in the slightest. He had no desire for kids and wasn’t always sure what to do with them. But he regarded me like I'd imagine a father treats his son. Hell, he let me start calling him ‘dad’ around this time. I really only started calling him ‘Old Fritz’ when he was gone. Figured everyone would find it weird if I was still calling my old boss my dad. We lived without a care then. He taught me flute, we composed together, wrote together. He would take me to the opera and theater every chance he could. He always made time for me. I don't think I left his side during this time except to shit and sleep. He was proud of my terrible poetry. God, it was awful. It’s hidden somewhere in West’s basement. It’s too painful to look at. He taught me French - against my will, but it was the royal language so he made it mandatory even for me - and English. He'd sit out in the gardens to read and watch me hunt. Fritz thought it was a dumb thing to enjoy, but he always managed to act proud of what I caught. Then war hit again. We had a minor disagreement in perspective on that. Some would say I was overconfident in my chances, but others would say he was incredibly pessimistic and a bit rude about ours. Maybe he realized the threat of Russia, Sweden, France, and Austria against us better than I did originally, but at least I had gusto. Despite that, we were both going to fight it whether it killed us and everyone really wanted to kill us. The Miracle of the House of Brandenburg is the only thing that saved us. Again, historians don't know jack shit when they define it. They claim it was the death of the Tzarina and the rise of her nephew that was obsessed with me. I'm not kidding, I swear he had a crush on me. I don’t blame him, but it was a different time. He should’ve been more discreet. The real miracle was that Fritz didn't kill himself or abdicate like he kept promising to do. With anyone else on the throne, even with her death we would've lost. Taking on France and a vengeful, bloodthirsty Austria required skill back then that only Fritz and I had. We won by the skin of our teeth. Fritz had to carry me back to Potsdam after treaty negotiations. I was barely conscious. For weeks after that I was knocked out. Apparently I kept hallucinating and thought I was a kid again. Healing was a slow process since my entire body took so much damage, including Berlin. It took a month for the heartburn to go away. When I finally came to, I never left his side. We shared a bedroom. He'd lost so much of his family during that war. He was afraid of being alone. He clung to me and Voltaire, which I didn’t approve of. Voltaire was a gossip and a prick, always in the pocket of France’s court if Francis could cough up enough money. He was a shit spy anyway, but when have the French been known for their intelligence? Anyways, I did whatever he wanted. His fingers became too swollen and stiff and he was losing all his teeth, so I would play the flute for him. I'd run through his favorites or create new things on the spot. I'd play for hours on end if he wanted. I just wanted to make him happy again. I'd missed seeing him smile. We'd walk around the gardens at lunch. That was always when he reflected on his life to me. At the time, I thought it was really fucking weird. I'd been through everything with him. I knew it all and I'd seen it all. Made more sense for him to tell his biographers this shit. Not like I could go out and immortalize it in some book other than my diaries. I didn't appreciate it until Bismarck started making a name for himself. Then I finally understood the appeal. It's hard to explain why exactly. I just do. It gives me more of him to think about. It's more than having one of his hats or walking sticks or still being allowed to live in Sans Soucci. It's him. It's how he saw things. A person's perspective is more valuable than any material object. Fuck, I've really turned into a sentimental old man, haven't I? I used to say his death was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Dissolution beats it, but only by a small amount. The mythos is true, by the way. The clock in his room did stop at the exact time he died. I've got no fucking idea what he was doing up that early, but that’s how he was. Maybe he knew he was dying and wanted to meet his last adversary ready. That's how I like to think about it. I like to think it was painless. I know he was smiling. He looked so relaxed, like he finally got what he wanted all along. I woke up to the body. Sometimes I fall asleep still seeing it. They had to pull me away from him. I was sobbing, hugging him close. Maybe if I prayed hard enough, one of our Gods would give him some of my immortality. I think my prayer backfired. Seems like I'm starting to get some of his mortality, huh? Ain't the world funny. No, fuck you, I'm not crying. There's just some shit in my eye. Mind your own business. Do you think he'd be proud of me? I'm not talking about me as Prussia. I know he wouldn’t cause all his hard work went to shit. All his hard won land is now apart of a German state he didn't want, Austria, a country he helped remove from the map, Russia, and Lithuania. So that's definitely a disappointment. I want to know if he's proud of me, Gilbert. From 1740 onward, I always tried to make him proud. I only wanted to do what he would think is best, make him smile from beyond the grave. Do you think he is? I think so. I have to. Sometimes, that thought is the only one that keeps me going.

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