❝you've got a lure i can't deny but you had your chance so say goodbye❞
rogue will | axis powers hetalia | 1800 words | turkey ; hungary ; austria | pg |
in which austria fights a war to win hungary back from turkey.
Written for tsinelas
Rogue Will
Vienna has changed, Elizaveta decides quietly. In the years since she has been there, the place has grown from a small town into a modern city; in many ways, it reflects perfectly the growth of its nation.
Sitting sidesaddle on the horse, her back braced against Roderich’s chest, Elizaveta cannot turn around to see him properly without it being noticeable. Some of the changes are obvious-he is now several heads taller than her, his voice has deepened and he has slimmed out. Others are entirely unexpected-like how much older and sophisticated he looks with a pair of glasses perched on his nose, or how restrained and refined he has become. Most startling of all is the shift in his eyes-where there was once naïveté and idealism there is now a cold harshness that Elizaveta would rather not be on the receiving end of.
He has been silent, all the while on their long trek. However, when Elizaveta finally rips her gaze away from the new buildings and roads, he clears his throat abruptly and reins the horse slowly to a stop.
Roderich dismounts first, one foot braced against a stirrup as he sets himself down and then gently brushes off his indigo coat. He offers Elizaveta a hand, and she knows not what else to do but take it; he places one hand on the small of her back as he helps her down. Setting her on her feet, he absently tucks a few strands of her loose, thick hair behind her ear.
“There,” he says quietly, with that new restraint, “welcome home.”
›››‹‹‹
“Welcome home,” Sadiq had said loosely, a few weeks earlier, as she entered the room. Elizaveta shot him a glare over her shoulder as she walked past, her sword hanging loose in her slim fingers. “Hey, princess, I just spoke to you. Courtesy dictates that you respond.”
“Oh, of course,” Elizaveta replied scathingly. She turned on her feel, and bobbed him a mocking imitation of a curtsy. “I return, oh great one. I trust nothing went wrong in my absence?”
“Don’t be curt with me, princess,” Sadiq said lackadaisically. “Remember, just ‘cause I’m giving you some privileges now doesn’t mean I can’t take ‘em away.”
“As if I didn’t sneak out even when it wasn’t allowed,” Elizaveta muttered. Out loud, she said, “Hey, if you preferred it when I was in the house all day…”
Sadiq, remembering the little “rebellions” Elizaveta had managed to orchestrate amongst his other vassals, paled. Releasing his breath in a huff, he replied, “I’ll admit it, you do better as a free bird than a caged one. But I’d rather have a bird with clipped wings than none at all.”
“Does this mean you’re going to cut my arms off if I do something you don’t like?” Elizaveta asked blandly.
“Undoubtedly,” Sadiq responded with wry humor. Having gotten up by this point, he crossed the room in a few quick strides to half-strangle her in a one-armed embrace. He kissed her lightly on the forehead as he said, “Don’t fly too far.”
›››‹‹‹
“Don’t stray too far,” Roderich says, back in the present. “You’re free to move about the castle and town, but remember, we’re still at war.”
“I could help you,” Elizaveta tells him earnestly. To be honest, she feels naked like this, unarmed. Her fingers itch for the hilt of her sword; her chest feels too vulnerable without a breastplate over it.
“Thank you, but no,” Roderich replies smoothly. “As it is, you’ve become vulnerable, and it would be too much of a risk-”
“Vulnerable?” Elizaveta snaps, “Roderich, I’m a better warrior than the majority of your army. You know that! I could fight; I could help you win-”
She stops abruptly as Roderich grips both of her shoulders and gives her a little shake. “No.”
“But-”
“Elizaveta, you just spent decades as that man’s captive! Do you really think I’d risk you by letting you battle him again?”
Elizaveta shifts back, trying to get a better look at Roderich’s face. His pale cheeks are flushed, and his violet eyes are filled with genuine concern.
“You…missed me, so much?” She asks quietly, pursing her lips.
But she has said too much, because he suddenly stiffens, embarrassed. Standing perfectly upright, he schools his expression into a blank mask. “Perhaps,” he says, infuriatingly vague. “Better to say that I don’t like it when what I want is in the possession of another.”
“So this is just a contest to you?”
“And one I intend to win.”
›››‹‹‹
“I fully intend to win,” Sadiq had said arrogantly that night, as he prepared for battle. His long white robes were replaced with more practical battle gear, the fringe of his dark hair visible as it fell over his mask.
“You’re going up against Roderich,” Elizaveta reminded him quietly, thinking. “I mean, he was a pushover before, but…”
“But what?” Sadiq laughed. “Once a weakling, always a weakling. That brat has been encroaching on my territory for long enough; I want him gone.”
“And by your territory, you mean mine, right?” Elizaveta asked, cocking her head to one side. “Need I remind you that this fort is in Hungary?”
“Look, princess,” Sadiq said, grabbing her chin and forcing her face upwards, “like it or not, you’ve been a part of the Ottoman Empire for years, now. So you’d best be getting used to it.”
“Being used to something isn’t the same as liking it,” Elizaveta responded promptly, jerking away from his touch. She picked up his scimitar from where it was leaning against the wall and thrust it at him unceremoniously. “Well, get going-gotta go protect your territory and all that, don’t you?”
“As if that’ll be any great task,” Sadiq said with his usual bravado. Strapping the scimitar to his waist, he paused for a moment. He leaned down abruptly, grazing his lips across Elizaveta’s.
She jerked as though touched by a hot iron, slapping Sadiq’s face as she did so. “W-what are you-? What was that for?”
“A kiss for good luck.” Sadiq winked at her, and then he was gone.
›››‹‹‹
“A k-kiss for good luck?” Roderich asks, frazzled. He still holds one hand over his mouth, his fingers touching the place where Elizaveta’s mouth met his. His cheeks are a burning red as he takes a step back.
“Yup,” she grins coyly. “What, you’ve never heard of it?”
When Roderich shakes his head, Elizaveta laughs-an interesting sound that is somewhat akin to the whinny of a horse. “It’s tradition, Roderich. If someone kisses you good bye, it means that they’ll be waiting for you to return. And it means you have to come home to them.”
“I…see.”
“Do you?” Elizaveta asks. She is glad that she was able to catch him so off-guard; for a moment he finally reverted to small child she used to know him as, and that warms her heart. For if he had changed completely, and become something entirely other, this cold, ruthless man giving orders…well, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be rescued by that man.
“Maybe,” Roderich says, chuckling slightly. By the time his weak laughter fades away, however, the blushing boy has been replaced by the ruthless man. He straitens up, clearing his throat. “Well…I should be going.”
“Yes.”
“But, before I do…” He leans down, reclaims her lips for another kiss. Now it is Elizaveta’s turn to blush, as his passion makes her blood boil. As he pulls away, he says, “A kiss for good luck. I rather like the idea.”
›››‹‹‹
“The idea of losing…I just can’t stomach it.” Sadiq coughed as he spoke, and when he pulled his hand away from his mouth there was blood on it. Elizaveta leaned towards him, tying up his wounds tightly with clean linen. Sadiq winced as she bound his arm, swatting her away. “Hey, hey-hey! Not so tight!”
“Don’t be such a baby,” she said curtly. “You shouldn’t fight so many wars if you can’t handle the results.”
“It’s not the wounds that bother me, princess,” Sadiq replied with a sheepish grin. “It’s your ever-so-gently nursing that does me in.”
“No wounds, no nursing,” Elizaveta reminded him. At that moment, when he smiled at her, it seemed as though nothing had changed. He reached up and tugged on her hair, and she smacked him away with a glare and a wicked smile. And she remembered why she hadn’t really fought all that hard to get away from him.
“…you never did tell me,” Elizaveta said at length, “What did he demand of you, when you lost?”
“Hmmm, I wonder,” Sadiq said quietly.
“You wonder?” Elizaveta said hotly, “Don’t kid with me-you don’t get your ass handed to you for nothing. He must have wanted something, what was it?”
“You,” Roderich said quietly, entering the room. She had not seen him in many years, and the sight of him seemed utterly foreign. Elizaveta was dressed in the long robes of the Ottoman Empire; Roderich was in breeches and a long coat. He extended one hand towards you, “I have won you your freedom.”
Sadiq said nothing as Elizaveta, confused and hurt, was led away.
›››‹‹‹
“Funny. I always thought you’d win your freedom yourself,” Sadiq says with a laugh. He is wounded, but only slightly; there is a cut on his cheek and he is favoring his left side. “I thought if I just opened the cage door slightly, you’d fly away. But you never did.”
“Until now,” Elizaveta says quietly. She had snuck away from the fortress in Vienna, donning her battle armor and making her way to the field. But even she wouldn’t be able to tell which troops she had been fighting with that day.
“Oh, no, you still didn’t,” Sadiq insists. “As I recall, you weren’t present in any of those negotiations.”
“But you were,” Elizaveta says. Sadiq doesn’t refute it. “And you lost-twice.”
“Try not to rub too much dirt in the wound, would you, princess?”
“I don’t have to listen you anymore,” Elizaveta says, but her voice is shaking.
“No,” Sadiq responds quietly, “You don’t.”
“So what is this, then? Good bye?”
Sadiq shrugs. Elizaveta sighs, sadly, but the next moment he pulls her towards him and hugs her tightly, with both arms this time-a strong embrace. Elizaveta leans against him, and closes her eyes, and tries to imagine herself as a little girl, poking him in the stomach just to get a reaction out of him.
“Well,” he says at length, “Get along-he’s waiting.”
And, sure enough, there Roderich is. He is waiting patiently, one arm crossed over the other. As Elizaveta sees him, covered in mud from the battle and shivering with cold, she smiles tenderly. She gives Sadiq one last kiss on the cheek, and then ends one chapter of her life as she prepares to start another-walking across a battlefield, away from Sadiq and towards Roderich.
→ hungary was an ottoman province from 1541 to 1686. in 1686, a pan-european force laid siege to buda and ended the ottoman empire’s administration of the territory.
sorry for the wait, oglu-hope you enjoyed it! &hearts
in which austria fights a war to win hungary back from turkey.
Written for tsinelas
Rogue Will
Vienna has changed, Elizaveta decides quietly. In the years since she has been there, the place has grown from a small town into a modern city; in many ways, it reflects perfectly the growth of its nation.
Sitting sidesaddle on the horse, her back braced against Roderich’s chest, Elizaveta cannot turn around to see him properly without it being noticeable. Some of the changes are obvious-he is now several heads taller than her, his voice has deepened and he has slimmed out. Others are entirely unexpected-like how much older and sophisticated he looks with a pair of glasses perched on his nose, or how restrained and refined he has become. Most startling of all is the shift in his eyes-where there was once naïveté and idealism there is now a cold harshness that Elizaveta would rather not be on the receiving end of.
He has been silent, all the while on their long trek. However, when Elizaveta finally rips her gaze away from the new buildings and roads, he clears his throat abruptly and reins the horse slowly to a stop.
Roderich dismounts first, one foot braced against a stirrup as he sets himself down and then gently brushes off his indigo coat. He offers Elizaveta a hand, and she knows not what else to do but take it; he places one hand on the small of her back as he helps her down. Setting her on her feet, he absently tucks a few strands of her loose, thick hair behind her ear.
“There,” he says quietly, with that new restraint, “welcome home.”
›››‹‹‹
“Welcome home,” Sadiq had said loosely, a few weeks earlier, as she entered the room. Elizaveta shot him a glare over her shoulder as she walked past, her sword hanging loose in her slim fingers. “Hey, princess, I just spoke to you. Courtesy dictates that you respond.”
“Oh, of course,” Elizaveta replied scathingly. She turned on her feel, and bobbed him a mocking imitation of a curtsy. “I return, oh great one. I trust nothing went wrong in my absence?”
“Don’t be curt with me, princess,” Sadiq said lackadaisically. “Remember, just ‘cause I’m giving you some privileges now doesn’t mean I can’t take ‘em away.”
“As if I didn’t sneak out even when it wasn’t allowed,” Elizaveta muttered. Out loud, she said, “Hey, if you preferred it when I was in the house all day…”
Sadiq, remembering the little “rebellions” Elizaveta had managed to orchestrate amongst his other vassals, paled. Releasing his breath in a huff, he replied, “I’ll admit it, you do better as a free bird than a caged one. But I’d rather have a bird with clipped wings than none at all.”
“Does this mean you’re going to cut my arms off if I do something you don’t like?” Elizaveta asked blandly.
“Undoubtedly,” Sadiq responded with wry humor. Having gotten up by this point, he crossed the room in a few quick strides to half-strangle her in a one-armed embrace. He kissed her lightly on the forehead as he said, “Don’t fly too far.”
›››‹‹‹
“Don’t stray too far,” Roderich says, back in the present. “You’re free to move about the castle and town, but remember, we’re still at war.”
“I could help you,” Elizaveta tells him earnestly. To be honest, she feels naked like this, unarmed. Her fingers itch for the hilt of her sword; her chest feels too vulnerable without a breastplate over it.
“Thank you, but no,” Roderich replies smoothly. “As it is, you’ve become vulnerable, and it would be too much of a risk-”
“Vulnerable?” Elizaveta snaps, “Roderich, I’m a better warrior than the majority of your army. You know that! I could fight; I could help you win-”
She stops abruptly as Roderich grips both of her shoulders and gives her a little shake. “No.”
“But-”
“Elizaveta, you just spent decades as that man’s captive! Do you really think I’d risk you by letting you battle him again?”
Elizaveta shifts back, trying to get a better look at Roderich’s face. His pale cheeks are flushed, and his violet eyes are filled with genuine concern.
“You…missed me, so much?” She asks quietly, pursing her lips.
But she has said too much, because he suddenly stiffens, embarrassed. Standing perfectly upright, he schools his expression into a blank mask. “Perhaps,” he says, infuriatingly vague. “Better to say that I don’t like it when what I want is in the possession of another.”
“So this is just a contest to you?”
“And one I intend to win.”
›››‹‹‹
“I fully intend to win,” Sadiq had said arrogantly that night, as he prepared for battle. His long white robes were replaced with more practical battle gear, the fringe of his dark hair visible as it fell over his mask.
“You’re going up against Roderich,” Elizaveta reminded him quietly, thinking. “I mean, he was a pushover before, but…”
“But what?” Sadiq laughed. “Once a weakling, always a weakling. That brat has been encroaching on my territory for long enough; I want him gone.”
“And by your territory, you mean mine, right?” Elizaveta asked, cocking her head to one side. “Need I remind you that this fort is in Hungary?”
“Look, princess,” Sadiq said, grabbing her chin and forcing her face upwards, “like it or not, you’ve been a part of the Ottoman Empire for years, now. So you’d best be getting used to it.”
“Being used to something isn’t the same as liking it,” Elizaveta responded promptly, jerking away from his touch. She picked up his scimitar from where it was leaning against the wall and thrust it at him unceremoniously. “Well, get going-gotta go protect your territory and all that, don’t you?”
“As if that’ll be any great task,” Sadiq said with his usual bravado. Strapping the scimitar to his waist, he paused for a moment. He leaned down abruptly, grazing his lips across Elizaveta’s.
She jerked as though touched by a hot iron, slapping Sadiq’s face as she did so. “W-what are you-? What was that for?”
“A kiss for good luck.” Sadiq winked at her, and then he was gone.
›››‹‹‹
“A k-kiss for good luck?” Roderich asks, frazzled. He still holds one hand over his mouth, his fingers touching the place where Elizaveta’s mouth met his. His cheeks are a burning red as he takes a step back.
“Yup,” she grins coyly. “What, you’ve never heard of it?”
When Roderich shakes his head, Elizaveta laughs-an interesting sound that is somewhat akin to the whinny of a horse. “It’s tradition, Roderich. If someone kisses you good bye, it means that they’ll be waiting for you to return. And it means you have to come home to them.”
“I…see.”
“Do you?” Elizaveta asks. She is glad that she was able to catch him so off-guard; for a moment he finally reverted to small child she used to know him as, and that warms her heart. For if he had changed completely, and become something entirely other, this cold, ruthless man giving orders…well, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be rescued by that man.
“Maybe,” Roderich says, chuckling slightly. By the time his weak laughter fades away, however, the blushing boy has been replaced by the ruthless man. He straitens up, clearing his throat. “Well…I should be going.”
“Yes.”
“But, before I do…” He leans down, reclaims her lips for another kiss. Now it is Elizaveta’s turn to blush, as his passion makes her blood boil. As he pulls away, he says, “A kiss for good luck. I rather like the idea.”
›››‹‹‹
“The idea of losing…I just can’t stomach it.” Sadiq coughed as he spoke, and when he pulled his hand away from his mouth there was blood on it. Elizaveta leaned towards him, tying up his wounds tightly with clean linen. Sadiq winced as she bound his arm, swatting her away. “Hey, hey-hey! Not so tight!”
“Don’t be such a baby,” she said curtly. “You shouldn’t fight so many wars if you can’t handle the results.”
“It’s not the wounds that bother me, princess,” Sadiq replied with a sheepish grin. “It’s your ever-so-gently nursing that does me in.”
“No wounds, no nursing,” Elizaveta reminded him. At that moment, when he smiled at her, it seemed as though nothing had changed. He reached up and tugged on her hair, and she smacked him away with a glare and a wicked smile. And she remembered why she hadn’t really fought all that hard to get away from him.
“…you never did tell me,” Elizaveta said at length, “What did he demand of you, when you lost?”
“Hmmm, I wonder,” Sadiq said quietly.
“You wonder?” Elizaveta said hotly, “Don’t kid with me-you don’t get your ass handed to you for nothing. He must have wanted something, what was it?”
“You,” Roderich said quietly, entering the room. She had not seen him in many years, and the sight of him seemed utterly foreign. Elizaveta was dressed in the long robes of the Ottoman Empire; Roderich was in breeches and a long coat. He extended one hand towards you, “I have won you your freedom.”
Sadiq said nothing as Elizaveta, confused and hurt, was led away.
›››‹‹‹
“Funny. I always thought you’d win your freedom yourself,” Sadiq says with a laugh. He is wounded, but only slightly; there is a cut on his cheek and he is favoring his left side. “I thought if I just opened the cage door slightly, you’d fly away. But you never did.”
“Until now,” Elizaveta says quietly. She had snuck away from the fortress in Vienna, donning her battle armor and making her way to the field. But even she wouldn’t be able to tell which troops she had been fighting with that day.
“Oh, no, you still didn’t,” Sadiq insists. “As I recall, you weren’t present in any of those negotiations.”
“But you were,” Elizaveta says. Sadiq doesn’t refute it. “And you lost-twice.”
“Try not to rub too much dirt in the wound, would you, princess?”
“I don’t have to listen you anymore,” Elizaveta says, but her voice is shaking.
“No,” Sadiq responds quietly, “You don’t.”
“So what is this, then? Good bye?”
Sadiq shrugs. Elizaveta sighs, sadly, but the next moment he pulls her towards him and hugs her tightly, with both arms this time-a strong embrace. Elizaveta leans against him, and closes her eyes, and tries to imagine herself as a little girl, poking him in the stomach just to get a reaction out of him.
“Well,” he says at length, “Get along-he’s waiting.”
And, sure enough, there Roderich is. He is waiting patiently, one arm crossed over the other. As Elizaveta sees him, covered in mud from the battle and shivering with cold, she smiles tenderly. She gives Sadiq one last kiss on the cheek, and then ends one chapter of her life as she prepares to start another-walking across a battlefield, away from Sadiq and towards Roderich.
→ hungary was an ottoman province from 1541 to 1686. in 1686, a pan-european force laid siege to buda and ended the ottoman empire’s administration of the territory.
sorry for the wait, oglu-hope you enjoyed it! &hearts