lostrealm | Stepping Together [COMPLETE]

Characters: England, Prussia
Date: Nov 28, morning but will most likely be all day
Format: Prose
Content Warnings: swearing is a given, also they are in a very weird relationship
Summary: Two countries struggle with controversial subjects. England finds out he's crazy, Prussia ponders about his life back home. A plan for Darstone-domination is hatched?

England had had a change of heart, so to speak, in regards to his stay in Darstone. Thanks to his conversation with his new roommate, Rarity, he had made up his mind to do whatever he could to assist the occupants while he was stuck there. After all, she was a unicorn. Above all else, England respected mythical beings, and unicorns were certainly the wisest! The fact that Rarity had befriended him so easily (though most creatures did) and was willing to help people she didn't even know forced him to reevaluate his stay in the city. He'd been beaten up, monitored, and had his heart removed. But at the same time, there had been some wonderful things that happened to him. He met new friends, had taken a whole cave of gems for himself, and he had found out about Prussia's devotion to him.

Ah. Prussia...

As a man who kept grudges, he should have still been disgusted by Prussia's actions, but England's anger with his fellow country had subsided for the time being. Why? Maybe it was something Loki did, or maybe it was just because England was excited by the idea of his enemy keeping hold of his heart. They lived next door to each other, and England could always hear his heart beating from wherever it was (most likely safe and sound in Prussia's room). Every now and then, England would press himself against the wall of his bedroom to listen to it, to remind London that he was close by, and that he had not abandoned it. He would take London back in time. As long as he knew it was safe, he was alright with it being where it was.

There was obviously something wrong with him.

But it was so new! The idea of loving Prussia as a human intrigued him. In Darstone, England didn't have to worry about his country duties. He was free to relax and discover new things, free to be his own boss, free to allow his enemy to keep him on a leash. Heh, that was something he would never admit to enjoying to anyone nut himself. Obviously, there was still a part of England that wanted to hurry home and protect his citizens, but another part of him was quite content in this new world. That was what exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen and he knew it was dangerous. He'd deal with it later.

Speaking of Prussia, it had been a while since England had seen him. And he very much wanted to see him. What a fool he was! Yet no matter how often England scolded himself, he could not stop thinking about him. Prussia was his Achilles heel. He was constantly in fear that Prussia would grow tired of him and cast him aside because he thought England was weak. England never wanted Prussia to think of him as weak, but wanting to be with him, after everything he did, obviously was proof of the island's true nature.

England's good mood wavered for a moment as he thought about how far he'd fallen... No, he wouldn't accuse Darstone. He only had himself to blame.

He decided to take a walk to get his mind off of that idiot and his own feelings. England headed west with the intention of visiting the Crafter's District. With his pockets full of small gems from his hideout, he went up through the Queen's Run-he'd made the mistake of going through the South District once and was almost mugged. Thank goodness he had his magic-over to the desired area and began to look around. He'd been here a couple times and had always found something new. Perhaps, today, he would look at the magic items. Now that he was supporting Darstone, England planned to go shopping more often.

Of course, once he got to the hustle and bustle of the District, he caught sight of a familiar face. It was Prussia! He sighed and resigned himself to fate before following after him.

"Hey."

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That was not a typical Prussia answer. England's eyes flicked over to his partner, expression pensive. Now he remembered what he wanted to discuss. That Cross was still gone, and Prussia was speaking cryptically. He considered a few things he could say and finally moved closer so that he could nose behind Prussia's ear.

He felt like a kid, wanting to snog behind a schoolyard fence. At least his mood was up again.

"That doesn't sound like you at all."

He hummed softly at the nosing, reached up to slip his fingers into the fine strands of hair at the back of England's neck. Prussia didn't grip or press against the other man. Merely, his hand was there resting, encouraging without being pushy. "No? You're right, I guess it's not." With a sigh, Prussia moved his hand up so he could tug England back by his hair, though he wasn't rough about it. Actually, if anything, it was more that he was guiding the other nation back to look at his face. He gave England a searching look.

"England…" It wasn't often that he had no idea what to say, but it seemed this was one of those rare moments. "…Do I look older to you? Not that the awesome me is feeling vain; you and I both know I could look my real age and still be the sexiest thing this city's ever seen. But. Y'know. Indulge my curiousity here."

England moved back easily. It looked as though this wouldn't be as difficult as the last time. Prussia wanted to talk to him. Honestly. England could see that. He was relieved, grateful, and he vowed he would be sincere in return. Not because of the stupid magic rock and its swaying magic, but because he wanted to be. Prussia was very important to England, and the island had been worried about him.

He gently shook his head to answer. "Look the same to me." A pause. And then he carefully added, "What is happening to you back at home?" After all, there had to be a reason that Prussia would bring up such a morose topic. Their flight from the gang must have winded him more than he was letting on.

Prussia dragged his tongue over his lips before he responded, taking the opportunity to consider his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, tone oddly light. "It's funny. Your government is so terrified of the threat of Prussian militarism, when any German schoolchild will tell you that, while Prussia is a proud part of their history… that's all Prussia means to them." He had been staring just past England's ear as he spoke, but when he finished, he flicked his gaze to meet the island's, as if to ask if he understood.

It was a strange thing to hear, though, at the same time, England was not that surprised. Should he have been? His idea of Germany, currently, was that the Nazis wanted to swallow everything up until it became part of him. It seemed logical to start with the country that had practically raised him.

Raised. Heh, what an ungrateful brat Germany was. Whether he felt the same as his Boss or not, it was still made England sick with anger. Then again, now that they were in a world where they had power over their own lives, perhaps that caused him to look at things differently. (There was also the sore-spot with America that helped fuel England's fire.) Oh, yes. He understood.

"For centuries, you were the one that was ultimately feared," replied England. "Not that I feared you, of course. I cannot imagine why your Boss would want to overlook that." It was almost as though the island wanted to reassure himself, more than the other, that Prussia was not in danger. Certainly, he couldn't be! He wasn't old! He was strong! He was needed!

"He didn't overlook that. Why d'you think he started his rise to power by removing my government? The Weimar Republic was the second most monumental failure I have ever had the disprivilege of being the most awesome and successful part of. The Boss needed me to get West, but he couldn't risk my old bosses coming back, so he had me dissolved." Prussia's tone was, for all that he was speaking of a matter that all but spelled death for him, haughty. Prideful. What did he have without his pride? Nothing, that's what.

"Clever, right? Don't tell the world there is no Prussia, and watch them quail at the thought that the Nazi regime is backed by Prussian strength. Which, it is. I raised West right, damnit! His military knows what it's doing. And it's not like I'm dead yet."

Not that it hadn't hurt; Germany overthrowing his government. Even if West hadn't agreed… Well. They'd had it out, over the Preußenschlag and his brother's attempt to dismiss him here, and Prussia had found himself oddly forgiving. Whether it was because he truly wanted to still be needed, or he was afraid that he'd fade away when Germany no longer had need of the Prussian state, he didn't know. He didn't care to know. But he had seen the anger on England's face and was determined to keep him away from West. For the sake of his own sanity, if nothing else.

Dissolved. Dead. No Prussia. It panicked England to hear those words. He'd never considered such a strong country would be erased, certainly not by its own people. The disgust melted off his face and he had to look down at the ground in order to keep his composure. Every bone in his body wanted to comfort Prussia, but England held himself back out of fear that his enemy might push him away. Prussia was strong, like he was, had a lot of pride. England would not take that away from him.

It was probably a good thing Prussia wanted to keep Germany away from him.

When he finally lifted his head, he was slightly trembling. This was frustrating! He had no idea what to say. England carefully reached over and placed his fingers on the top of Prussia's tie where the Iron Cross was usually placed. Nothing got past his keen detective senses! That Cross had been removed. He wasn't sure how, but he was almost certain he knew why.

His gaze was fixed on England's expression. At the first sign of true pity, Prussia likely would have smacked the eyebrows off the older man's face. Except he didn't find that there. All he saw was what appeared to him to be fear, but wasn't that ridiculous. Why would England be afraid for him? Prussia himself harboured no such concerns for his own future!

At the hand resting on his tie, Prussia's eyebrows lifted. "You asked where it was. West has it. Has since before you asked. Keeps it in the right hip pocket of that overcoat of his. I keep track of what's mine, Schatzi, but you knew that already, huh?" Of course, a couple weeks ago he wouldn't have been able to so precisely locate the medal, but England didn't need to know that.

England would never pity Prussia. Why would he do something he hated himself? Pity was such an ugly word, ugly feeling. No, what England felt was genuine. He really was scared!

Anger flickered in his eyes again at the mention of Germany taking away Prussia's Cross. He managed to quell it, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth. That Cross had been Prussia's long before the war. It was his symbol, and he'd even had one made for Germany. For that little brother of his to take it away... That shite wasn't right.

He kept his fingers there and raised his gaze to Prussia again. "What are you going to do?" he asked, and then regretted the words. He sounded pathetic.

Stepping Together [COMPLETE]

did you write this in your sleep

woke up, went "OMG TAGSPIRATION", tagged, fell back asneep

beautiful tagspiration

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