[fic] Hetalia - "Miles To Go"
Dec. 8th, 2010 09:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
konstantyaTitle: Miles To Go
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Drama, general.
Characters: Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein.
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,300 (excluding notes)
Summary: Austria has changed greatly from the war-mongering empire he once was. Switzerland on the other hand…hasn't changed a hair.
Period: Late 1955.
Part of the Edelweiss Arc.
Switzerland answers the door in the exact way Austria expects him to—suspiciously, loaded gun in hand.
Suspicion turns to a full-out scowl upon seeing who has come to call on him. Switzerland's eyes give him a once-over. "What do you want?"
"To come in, if that's alright."
"And if it isn't?"
Before Austria can answer, the pattering of light footsteps comes into earshot, and Liechtenstein turns the corner, into the front hall. "Bruder, who is it?—oh!" she says, quite pleasantly, upon seeing their visitor. "Mr. Austria."
Austria smiles politely over Switzerland's head and begins to greet her in return, but is interrupted by the barrel of a handgun getting intimate with the underside of his nose.
"Liechtenstein, stay back," Switzerland warns, his other arm stretched out protectively behind him, his eyes never leaving Austria.
Liechtenstein, for her part, is confused, and looks between her caregiver and their visitor. "But, it's just Mr. Austria…"
"Exactly. He'll put his grabby hands all over you and make you smell like coffee."
Austria's eyebrow dips. Aside from the coffee part, the proposed behavior sounds more like France than anybody. "I would do no such thing," he says, perhaps a little affronted by the insinuation, all in all handling the physical threat to his person with considerable aplomb.
"Well either way, you're not coming in just so I can find out."
Another response he expected. Austria lifts the basket on his arm. "I brought some cheese and wine," he offers.
At this information, Switzerland's own eyebrow dips skeptically, his chin lifts, and his trigger finger eases up. He eyes Austria for a moment, and then, finally, relents. "I'm only letting you in because of the food, mind," he says, stepping to the side, protectively and predictably keeping himself in front of Liechtenstein.
"Of course," Austria says, and steps in.
"Bruder," Liechtenstein says, somehow having slipped out from behind Switzerland, much to his panic and Austria's surprise, "I'll make some tea." She smiles sweetly, slips the basket off of Austria's arm, and is walking away before either of the other nations know it.
"She's grown," Austria observes, almost wistfully, watching the micro-nation disappear down the hall. Switzerland starts, no doubt worried about his charge's virtue. Before a gun barrel can be pointed somewhere delicate, Austria turns and adds, "No doubt your training helped."
Switzerland blinks, and shifts his eyes to the side. "More than it did for you," he mutters, under his breath and barely audible.
Austria smiles, perhaps nostalgically, perhaps wearily. Switzerland quirks a distrustful eyebrow. He holsters his pistol, turns, and dismissively starts walking away. Austria takes it upon himself to close the front door, and follows.
They go to his parlor. Switzerland stiffly slumps onto his couch, arms crossed, pointedly looking out the window. Austria quietly seats himself in a chair and inspects the furniture. They do not speak. Not until Liechtenstein returns, tea tray in hand.
She offers Austria a cup and saucer. Austria takes it, smiling politely. Switzerland glares at him.
Liechtenstein then goes to Switzerland. His expression softens upon taking his drink. "You didn't have to, you know," he murmurs to her.
She smiles her sweet, quiet smile. "I know. But I like to help out when I can." Austria catches the slight blush to Switzerland's face, and almost wants to smile, himself. There has been too much strife in the world as of late, and to see such gentle, innocent affection is refreshing.
Liechtenstein sets the tray down on the coffee table, picks up her own tea, and gingerly sits down on the other end of the couch. "So, Mr. Austria," she begins genially, "what brings you by?"
Switzerland has already finished his tea. Noisily, he sets his empty cup and saucer down on the table.
Austria takes a leisurely drink to buy him time. Even so, when he lowers the tea from his lips, he still finds himself clearing his throat a little. "My government is finally my own again," he says. That, itself, is something to be celebrated; the fact that he had to regain it in the first place is what still stings. He takes a breath and continues mildly. "Since I am no longer under the watch of the Allies, I thought I'd make the rounds, so to speak."
Switzerland snorts. "Trying to decide which country to invade next?" he mutters, head and eyes off to the side.
Austria's fingers tighten around the porcelain, just a little, and he finds himself pushing the tension back down his throat with a swallow. What is done is done, he reminds himself, however tragic any of that may be. All he can do now is look to the future.
He takes another breath, brisk and bracing. "No, actually," he finally says. "I've decided to be neutral from now on." From his peripheral vision, he catches Switzerland's head jerk toward him.
It was, in some ways, forced upon him—as Russia refused to leave until he could be sure he wouldn't be gaining another enemy—but perhaps, Austria has begun to think, neutrality is for the best, after all.
"I'm tired of war," he elaborates, not bothering to mask the honest weariness in his voice.
Switzerland stares, trying to make his curiosity look more like suspicion.
"To tell the truth, I came here to thank you," Austria goes on, quietly and sincerely, taking a sip of his tea before looking back up to his host. "For taking my people in and giving them shelter."
Switzerland starts, jerks his head away, embarrassed. He crosses his arms defensively. "Lots of people flocked over here for protection during that catastrophe you called a good idea; I didn't know any of them were yours."
Liechtenstein glances obliquely at her surrogate brother. Seeing she's momentarily out of his line of sight, she silently nods her head at Austria and mouths, "He did."
Austria suppresses a small smile, then sobers again. "Even so," he says, uncrossing his legs, placing his cup and saucer back down on his lap, "some of them were, and so I must thank you for that."
Switzerland shifts, uncomfortable. A minute passes, awkwardly.
Austria finishes the last splash of his tea. As if newly invigorated by it, he sets the porcelain on a nearby end table, and stands. "Well. I won't take up anymore of your time." He straightens his jacket and nods courteously at his hosts. "Thank you for the tea."
Liechtenstein stands to see him out. With a protective scowl, Switzerland grudgingly follows. Brusquely, he opens the front door, looking anywhere but at his neighbor who's about to leave. Austria hesitates, just for a moment, and finds himself staring at Switzerland's sour, surly expression.
Switzerland bristles, leveling a forbidding look at him. "What?" he demands.
"You haven't changed at all," Austria murmurs. It is comforting to know that at least one thing has not.
Switzerland's eyebrows furrow and he blinks, both skeptical and surprised.
Austria steps out and turns around. "Liechtenstein," he says, inclining his body in a slight bow. "I'm glad to see you well again."
Liechtenstein dips into a small curtsey and nods. "You, too." Switzerland huffs and pointedly looks at his mountains.
Austria knows better than to offer his hand, knows better than to expect a farewell, and is ready to turn and leave when Switzerland catches him off guard by speaking.
"Russia can be an ass," he says, short and blunt. "So can America, for that matter. Don't let them get to you."
Austria meets his eyes, and is reminded of long, long ago—of too-heavy swords in too-soft hands, of training drills and wounded piggy-back rides—and nods gratefully.
"Enjoy the wine and cheese," he says, and Switzerland nods back, curtly.
-----
Historical Notes:
-After WWII, Austria was occupied by the Allied forces (England, France, America, and Russia, in respective zones) and didn't get full control of his government back until 1955, at which point he declared himself to be neutral—the policies of which were expressly modeled on Swiss neutrality. Despite mucking this up a bit by joining the European Union in 1995, Austrian neutrality has become a defining characteristic of the country—Austria's given "birthday," October 26th, actually coincides with his Declaration of Neutrality (October 26th, 1955).
-Switzerland's only been Liechtenstein's "big brother" since 1919 (when she entered into a customs and monetary union with him). Before that, the role had been Austria's—though head-canon says their relationship was less familial and more business-like.
A/N: Man, I tell you, after I got all that weird AustriaxBelarus action out of the way, the rest of this story just fell into place. I had hoped this would end up longer, but, well, what can I say—Switzerland isn't one for a lot of talk when it comes to Austria. XD At any rate, yay for getting back to this arc!
All other Hetalia fanfics can be found here.
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Drama, general.
Characters: Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein.
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,300 (excluding notes)
Summary: Austria has changed greatly from the war-mongering empire he once was. Switzerland on the other hand…hasn't changed a hair.
Period: Late 1955.
Part of the Edelweiss Arc.
- Miles To Go -
Switzerland answers the door in the exact way Austria expects him to—suspiciously, loaded gun in hand.
Suspicion turns to a full-out scowl upon seeing who has come to call on him. Switzerland's eyes give him a once-over. "What do you want?"
"To come in, if that's alright."
"And if it isn't?"
Before Austria can answer, the pattering of light footsteps comes into earshot, and Liechtenstein turns the corner, into the front hall. "Bruder, who is it?—oh!" she says, quite pleasantly, upon seeing their visitor. "Mr. Austria."
Austria smiles politely over Switzerland's head and begins to greet her in return, but is interrupted by the barrel of a handgun getting intimate with the underside of his nose.
"Liechtenstein, stay back," Switzerland warns, his other arm stretched out protectively behind him, his eyes never leaving Austria.
Liechtenstein, for her part, is confused, and looks between her caregiver and their visitor. "But, it's just Mr. Austria…"
"Exactly. He'll put his grabby hands all over you and make you smell like coffee."
Austria's eyebrow dips. Aside from the coffee part, the proposed behavior sounds more like France than anybody. "I would do no such thing," he says, perhaps a little affronted by the insinuation, all in all handling the physical threat to his person with considerable aplomb.
"Well either way, you're not coming in just so I can find out."
Another response he expected. Austria lifts the basket on his arm. "I brought some cheese and wine," he offers.
At this information, Switzerland's own eyebrow dips skeptically, his chin lifts, and his trigger finger eases up. He eyes Austria for a moment, and then, finally, relents. "I'm only letting you in because of the food, mind," he says, stepping to the side, protectively and predictably keeping himself in front of Liechtenstein.
"Of course," Austria says, and steps in.
"Bruder," Liechtenstein says, somehow having slipped out from behind Switzerland, much to his panic and Austria's surprise, "I'll make some tea." She smiles sweetly, slips the basket off of Austria's arm, and is walking away before either of the other nations know it.
"She's grown," Austria observes, almost wistfully, watching the micro-nation disappear down the hall. Switzerland starts, no doubt worried about his charge's virtue. Before a gun barrel can be pointed somewhere delicate, Austria turns and adds, "No doubt your training helped."
Switzerland blinks, and shifts his eyes to the side. "More than it did for you," he mutters, under his breath and barely audible.
Austria smiles, perhaps nostalgically, perhaps wearily. Switzerland quirks a distrustful eyebrow. He holsters his pistol, turns, and dismissively starts walking away. Austria takes it upon himself to close the front door, and follows.
They go to his parlor. Switzerland stiffly slumps onto his couch, arms crossed, pointedly looking out the window. Austria quietly seats himself in a chair and inspects the furniture. They do not speak. Not until Liechtenstein returns, tea tray in hand.
She offers Austria a cup and saucer. Austria takes it, smiling politely. Switzerland glares at him.
Liechtenstein then goes to Switzerland. His expression softens upon taking his drink. "You didn't have to, you know," he murmurs to her.
She smiles her sweet, quiet smile. "I know. But I like to help out when I can." Austria catches the slight blush to Switzerland's face, and almost wants to smile, himself. There has been too much strife in the world as of late, and to see such gentle, innocent affection is refreshing.
Liechtenstein sets the tray down on the coffee table, picks up her own tea, and gingerly sits down on the other end of the couch. "So, Mr. Austria," she begins genially, "what brings you by?"
Switzerland has already finished his tea. Noisily, he sets his empty cup and saucer down on the table.
Austria takes a leisurely drink to buy him time. Even so, when he lowers the tea from his lips, he still finds himself clearing his throat a little. "My government is finally my own again," he says. That, itself, is something to be celebrated; the fact that he had to regain it in the first place is what still stings. He takes a breath and continues mildly. "Since I am no longer under the watch of the Allies, I thought I'd make the rounds, so to speak."
Switzerland snorts. "Trying to decide which country to invade next?" he mutters, head and eyes off to the side.
Austria's fingers tighten around the porcelain, just a little, and he finds himself pushing the tension back down his throat with a swallow. What is done is done, he reminds himself, however tragic any of that may be. All he can do now is look to the future.
He takes another breath, brisk and bracing. "No, actually," he finally says. "I've decided to be neutral from now on." From his peripheral vision, he catches Switzerland's head jerk toward him.
It was, in some ways, forced upon him—as Russia refused to leave until he could be sure he wouldn't be gaining another enemy—but perhaps, Austria has begun to think, neutrality is for the best, after all.
"I'm tired of war," he elaborates, not bothering to mask the honest weariness in his voice.
Switzerland stares, trying to make his curiosity look more like suspicion.
"To tell the truth, I came here to thank you," Austria goes on, quietly and sincerely, taking a sip of his tea before looking back up to his host. "For taking my people in and giving them shelter."
Switzerland starts, jerks his head away, embarrassed. He crosses his arms defensively. "Lots of people flocked over here for protection during that catastrophe you called a good idea; I didn't know any of them were yours."
Liechtenstein glances obliquely at her surrogate brother. Seeing she's momentarily out of his line of sight, she silently nods her head at Austria and mouths, "He did."
Austria suppresses a small smile, then sobers again. "Even so," he says, uncrossing his legs, placing his cup and saucer back down on his lap, "some of them were, and so I must thank you for that."
Switzerland shifts, uncomfortable. A minute passes, awkwardly.
Austria finishes the last splash of his tea. As if newly invigorated by it, he sets the porcelain on a nearby end table, and stands. "Well. I won't take up anymore of your time." He straightens his jacket and nods courteously at his hosts. "Thank you for the tea."
Liechtenstein stands to see him out. With a protective scowl, Switzerland grudgingly follows. Brusquely, he opens the front door, looking anywhere but at his neighbor who's about to leave. Austria hesitates, just for a moment, and finds himself staring at Switzerland's sour, surly expression.
Switzerland bristles, leveling a forbidding look at him. "What?" he demands.
"You haven't changed at all," Austria murmurs. It is comforting to know that at least one thing has not.
Switzerland's eyebrows furrow and he blinks, both skeptical and surprised.
Austria steps out and turns around. "Liechtenstein," he says, inclining his body in a slight bow. "I'm glad to see you well again."
Liechtenstein dips into a small curtsey and nods. "You, too." Switzerland huffs and pointedly looks at his mountains.
Austria knows better than to offer his hand, knows better than to expect a farewell, and is ready to turn and leave when Switzerland catches him off guard by speaking.
"Russia can be an ass," he says, short and blunt. "So can America, for that matter. Don't let them get to you."
Austria meets his eyes, and is reminded of long, long ago—of too-heavy swords in too-soft hands, of training drills and wounded piggy-back rides—and nods gratefully.
"Enjoy the wine and cheese," he says, and Switzerland nods back, curtly.
-----
Historical Notes:
-After WWII, Austria was occupied by the Allied forces (England, France, America, and Russia, in respective zones) and didn't get full control of his government back until 1955, at which point he declared himself to be neutral—the policies of which were expressly modeled on Swiss neutrality. Despite mucking this up a bit by joining the European Union in 1995, Austrian neutrality has become a defining characteristic of the country—Austria's given "birthday," October 26th, actually coincides with his Declaration of Neutrality (October 26th, 1955).
-Switzerland's only been Liechtenstein's "big brother" since 1919 (when she entered into a customs and monetary union with him). Before that, the role had been Austria's—though head-canon says their relationship was less familial and more business-like.
A/N: Man, I tell you, after I got all that weird AustriaxBelarus action out of the way, the rest of this story just fell into place. I had hoped this would end up longer, but, well, what can I say—Switzerland isn't one for a lot of talk when it comes to Austria. XD At any rate, yay for getting back to this arc!
All other Hetalia fanfics can be found here.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 05:42 am (UTC)I think you nailed the characterisation, and the tone, and everything, and I definitely liked reading this.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 07:21 am (UTC)*applaud*
Date: 2010-12-09 08:14 am (UTC)Re: *applaud*
Date: 2010-12-09 05:08 pm (UTC)Re: *applaud*
Date: 2010-12-09 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 07:40 pm (UTC)Lord knows how he'd react if France showed up. XDno subject
Date: 2010-12-09 09:22 pm (UTC)Liechtenstein must get kind of lonely, though, if he reacts like this to everyone. Maybe she and Belgium (and Hungary once the Cold War is over) have girl's nights where they eat three or four boxes of each other chocolates, while Switzerland hides in his gun vault working on his never-ending inventory.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 02:30 pm (UTC)I'm sure he's a bit more relaxed when it comes to female nations. And I LOVE the idea of him hiding away while the girls take over for a night, haha.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 04:44 pm (UTC)Poor Switzerland presses himself against the wall, sweating, as the Hungary demonstrates the best way to secure pistols in one's garters.
...I may have to write this.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 05:02 pm (UTC)Bonus if Austria hides himself away with Switzerland after they take over his place.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-09 11:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-10 10:39 pm (UTC)