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Chapter Text

         The moon hung high, casting a silvery glow over the cobblestone streets of Vienna, where shadows danced playfully among the ancient buildings. Austria-Hungary, a boy with tousled chestnut hair and a spirit too bold for his own good, crept quietly through the night. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of damp earth and the distant echo of laughter from a nearby tavern.

He had heard the stories—whispers of the Nachtkrapp, a creature of darkness said to snatch away those who ventured too far into the night. But Austria-Hungary was hardly a child anymore. He had outgrown tales meant to frighten little ones, dismissing them as the stuff of myth. Tonight, he felt invincible, a conqueror of fear.

He ventured deeper into the winding alleys, the moonlight glinting off the edges of his coat as he slipped past doorways and under flickering streetlamps. The cobbles beneath his feet felt solid, grounding him in his defiance. Each step was a challenge to the legends, a testament to his courage—or perhaps his foolishness.

The quiet of the night enveloped him, interrupted only by the rustle of leaves and the soft sigh of the wind. He paused, leaning against a cool stone wall, his breath visible in the chilly air. In that moment, he felt a thrill coursing through him, a heady mix of adventure and rebellion.

But as he resumed his stroll, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. The shadows seemed to stretch and flicker, as if animated by some unseen force. A chill danced along his spine, brushing away the warmth of his bravado. He shook it off, telling himself it was just the night playing tricks.

Then, a sound—a soft rustle that didn’t belong. Austria-Hungary glanced over his shoulder, heart quickening. Nothing was there, just the stillness of the night, yet the feeling lingered. He picked up his pace, the excitement turning to unease.

With every footfall, the sensation of being watched grew stronger, a weight pressing down on him. He glanced back again, and this time, a figure emerged from the shadows. Tall and imposing, cloaked in darkness, the silhouette seemed to merge with the night itself.

Austria-Hungary’s breath caught in his throat.

The figure stepped forward, revealing a face both familiar and haunting—eyes like cold steel, sharp features that could cut through the very fabric of fear. It was Kaiserreich, the personification of the German Empire, a boy who exuded an aura of authority and ambition that made the air crackle.

Austria-Hungary's heart raced, realization dawning. He hadn’t just dared to defy the tales of the Nachtkrapp; he had wandered into the presence of something far more dangerous—something that could pull him into the depths of a night he was no longer sure he could escape.

Austria-Hungary tried to steady his breathing, but each gasp felt jagged, clawing its way up his throat as if it, too, sensed the danger. Kaiserreich didn’t move closer; he didn’t need to. His shadow stretched across the cobblestones, engulfing the moonlit path ahead, leaving Austria-Hungary nowhere to run but back into the darkness.

"Out alone, Austria?" Kaiserreich's voice was a low murmur, as smooth and chilling as a winter's wind, carrying just enough warmth to make one shiver.

Austria-Hungary's fingers twitched, inching toward his coat, where a small blade rested—hardly enough to protect him, but in this moment, even the illusion of defense was something. “What are you doing here?” he managed, his voice trembling more than he’d intended.

Kaiserreich’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile, something both polite and predatory.

"Isn’t it obvious?" He took a single step forward, his long shadow stretching, merging with the mist pooling in the alleys. “The night... calls for me. And I couldn’t ignore such a bold invitation.”

Austria-Hungary took a step back, feeling the damp, cold wall of the alley press against his spine. He could barely see the boyish features that lay beneath the shadowy veneer—the ghostly paleness of his face, his eyes reflecting only the dimmest light. Kaiserreich looked... different. He wore his human form like a thin veil, something that could be discarded at a moment's whim.

"You don’t really believe those stories, do you?” Austria-Hungary tried to inject some defiance into his tone. “The Nachtkrapp, the shadows—none of it’s real.”

Kaiserreich chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. “Oh, but I am real, Austria.” His voice dropped, soft but relentless. “And I’ve come to remind you that night isn’t meant for your kind."

Austria-Hungary's heartbeat hammered against his ribs, each thud louder than the last. He forced himself to keep his gaze locked on Kaiserreich, even as every instinct screamed at him to look away, to run. But Kaiserreich’s eyes held him captive, deep pools of something old, far older than the Empire that held its name. Something ancient and hungry.

“Why are you following me?” Austria-Hungary’s voice was little more than a whisper now, all pretense of bravado stripped away. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this boy than the weight of a powerful empire; that Kaiserreich was something much older, a specter of dark, silent wings. He felt it in the way the night grew colder, heavier, swallowing the distance between them.

“Curiosity,” Kaiserreich replied, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he were confiding in Austria-Hungary, though his tone held no intimacy. “You dared to challenge what shouldn’t be challenged. To wander where you shouldn’t wander. I simply wanted to see where your courage will take you.”

Austria-Hungary clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms, grounding himself. “And now that you’ve seen it?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

Kaiserreich’s smile grew, revealing a hint of something sharper than human teeth. “Now,” he murmured, “I wonder how much further you’ll go.”

He extended a hand, graceful yet eerie, the fingers too long, too shadowed, the skin almost translucent beneath the faint light. Austria-Hungary stared, breath caught in his throat as he felt an almost magnetic pull toward it. It was like stepping onto a ledge, the thrill and terror of being inches from a deadly fall.

In that moment, Austria-Hungary knew he was trapped. The night held its breath, silent and expectant, as Kaiserreich’s hand hovered closer, beckoning him to surrender, to embrace the darkness he’d once laughed at.

And from the depths of his memory, Austria-Hungary recalled the final words of the myth—the tale’s warning, the line that marked every child’s dream and every parent’s nightmare: Once you hear the call of the Nachtkrapp, the night will never release you.

Austria-Hungary’s breaths came in short, shallow bursts, his back pressed so tightly against the alley wall that he could feel the rough stone biting through his coat. Kaiserreich’s outstretched hand remained, steady as a hunter waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But the German Empire wasn’t pouncing; he was savoring this—drawing it out, as though he enjoyed watching Austria-Hungary unravel under the weight of his presence.

The boy narrowed his eyes, daring to look up again, forcing his gaze to hold. His mind raced, scouring every tale he’d ever heard about the Nachtkrapp. They all ended the same: with its victim lost to the night, body and soul swallowed into darkness. But this wasn’t a creature of legend. This was Kaiserreich, his ally… wasn’t he?

“I’m not a child,” Austria-Hungary managed, his voice trembling but sharp. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

Kaiserreich’s eyes glinted, amused. “Is that so?” His voice held a quiet mockery, a challenge. Then take my hand. Show me that you’re unafraid, that you can face the night without a shiver.”

The words hung in the air, taunting. Austria-Hungary felt his hands growing clammy, his fingers curling involuntarily as if reaching for a weapon he couldn’t find. He knew he couldn’t outrunKaiserreich; every shadow seemed to lean toward the German Empire, as though even the darkness itself obeyed him.

Slowly, he raised his hand, just barely reaching out. His fingers grazed the air between them, but in that instant, a terrible sensation washed over him—a coldness so intense it made his skin crawl, as though an abyss lay in that small distance, waiting to consume him whole.

Kaiserreich’s eyes flickered. "Not so bold now, are we?” His voice softened, almost tender. “Fear is natural, Austria. It keeps creatures like you… safe.”

Something in his tone snapped Austria-Hungary out of his trance, his hand falling back to his side. “What are you?” he demanded, his voice breaking. “You can’t be real. You can’t be—”

Kaiserreich’s laughter echoed through the narrow alley, a sound that was both hollow and full, like a voice that had spoken across countless ages. “What am I?” he repeated, stepping closer, until his presence loomed like a storm over Austria-Hungary. “I am that which lurks in your heart when the world is silent. I am your courage tested, your fear unmasked. I am the darkness you can’t escape.”

As Kaiserreich spoke, the shadows seemed to shift around him, swirling, thickening, as though the night itself was gathering, bending to his will. Austria-Hungary forced himself to hold his ground, though his knees threatened to buckle under the weight of that presence. He tried to speak, to demand answers, but his voice caught in his throat. The words felt fragile, like they would shatter under the force of Kaiserreich’s gaze.

Kaiserreich tilted his head, observing Austria-Hungary with a strange, detached curiosity. “You think defiance will save you?” He reached out again, his fingers brushing against Austria-Hungary’s shoulder, the touch colder than ice, sending shivers racing down his spine.

“It’s adorable, really. But in the end, the night consumes all who dare to stand against it.”

Austria-Hungary swallowed, his throat dry. “I’m not just anyone,” he said, more to himself than to the figure before him. “I’m Austria-Hungary. I am… I’m an Empire.”

“Are you?” Kaiserreich’s expression turned almost pitying. “Is that what you tell yourself to feel brave?” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, soft yet sharp as a blade. “Power is nothing here. The night knows no kings, no empires.”

Austria-Hungary’s vision swam, and he found himself taking an unsteady step backward. “You’re wrong. I’ve survived wars, rebellions, everything. I won’t be frightened by an overgrown crow—”

A sudden darkness filled his vision, blotting out everything else, and Austria-Hungary stumbled back, gasping. In the split second he’d blinked, Kaiserreich had vanished, the shadows swallowing him whole. The alley was empty, and the night was silent once more.

A strange sense of relief washed over him, and he let out a shaky breath. Maybe it was all in his head. Maybe Kaiserreich was simply playing a trick on him, testing his courage. He turned, prepared to walk away, to shake off this encounter as a strange dream.

But then, in the quiet, he heard it—a faint, rhythmic fluttering, like the beating of wings. The sound grew louder, filling the narrow space, echoing off the walls. Austria-Hungary’s heart hammered as he turned, desperately scanning the shadows.

There he was, perched on a ledge above him—a figure half-hidden in shadow, but unmistakable. Kaiserreich’s face was obscured, his outline shifting, like something out of a nightmare. A pair of dark wings unfurled behind him, their edges sharp as blades, feathers glistening in the moonlight like polished obsidian.

This was no mere boy, no ally, no familiar face. This was the Nachtkrapp.

Austria-Hungary froze, his feet rooted to the ground, unable to look away. The sight was both terrible and mesmerizing, a beauty carved from darkness, ancient and impenetrable.

Kaiserreich’s eyes gleamed, piercing through the shadows, fixing on Austria-Hungary with a gaze that felt like a spell. “Run, if you dare,” he whispered, the words floating down like a chill across Austria-Hungary’s skin. “But know that I’ll be right behind you. The night is mine, and in it, I will hunt.”

That was all it took. Austria-Hungary turned and bolted, his feet pounding against the cobblestones, every nerve alive with terror. The alley stretched out before him, narrowing and twisting, the path seeming to shift with each step. He ran faster than he ever had, his breath ragged, the cold air tearing at his lungs.

But no matter how fast he ran, he could hear the wings beating behind him, a constant, relentless reminder that the creature he’d dared to mock was drawing closer with every heartbeat. Shadows leaped and twisted along the walls, taunting him, whispering his name in voices that sounded like Kaiserreich’s, like the night itself calling to him.

He rounded a corner, his boots skidding on the damp stones, and threw himself forward, not caring where he went, as long as it was away. But with every step, the path grew darker, the shadows more suffocating, closing in around him like a cage.

At last, he stumbled into an open square, the night sky vast above him, stars shining coldly down. He spun around, desperate to catch his breath, to see if he’d outrun the creature.

But Kaiserreich was already there, standing at the edge of the square, his wings folded, his gaze unyielding. There was no trace of humanity in those eyes now, only the void of the night, deep and endless, waiting to consume.

Austria-Hungary’s voice broke as he backed away, his knees weakening. “Please,” he gasped, hardly aware of the word leaving his lips. “I—”

“Please?” Kaiserreich’s voice dripped with contempt, a dark amusement lacing his tone. “Is that all the courage you have left, little Empire?”

In that moment, Austria-Hungary felt his strength failing him, his bravado shattered. He dropped to his knees, bowing his head, feeling the weight of Kaiserreich’s presence pressing down on him, like a mantle of darkness. This was no mere boy, no Empire—this was the embodiment of his deepest fear, the darkness he could never conquer.

Kaiserreich moved closer, his footsteps soundless, his shadow swallowing Austria-Hungary whole. He knelt down, bringing his face close, his voice a murmur against Austria-Hungary’s ear.

“Remember this, Austria,” he whispered. “The night holds no place for you. And if you dare to walk it again… I will be waiting.”

And with that, the wings unfurled, sweeping out in a vast arc, and the darkness closed in, leaving Austria-Hungary alone, trembling in the silence. The city lay empty and still around him, the echoes of wings fading into the distance.

As he knelt there, he knew that he would never walk the night again without feeling the chill of the shadows. For the Nachtkrapp had marked him, and in its haunting silence, it had claimed a piece of him that would never be free.

Chapter Text

         Austria-Hungary sat on the edge of his bed, his hands folded tightly in his lap, staring blankly at the early morning light streaming through his bedroom window. The faint warmth from the sunlight was a welcome contrast to the coldness that had settled into his bones after the night’s encounter, but it did little to calm the gnawing unease in his stomach.

He hadn’t slept, not really. Even in the rare moments, his eyes had drifted shut, he’d been haunted by half-formed dreams—flashes of shadows, the relentless beating of wings, and that haunting, unwavering gaze. The image of Kaiserreich’s face, shrouded in shadow, lingered on the edges of his mind, like a dark stain he couldn’t wash away.

But as the city began to wake, with the soft chatter of servants and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the corridors, Austria-Hungary told himself he was being foolish. Surely, it had been nothing more than a trick of the mind. He’d let his imagination get the better of him.

Yes, that was it. There was no such thing as the Nachtkrapp. Kaiserreich had been toying with him, exploiting his fears in some cruel jest. He was, after all, an empire in his own right—young, perhaps, but not a child to be frightened by shadows.

He let out a slow breath, clenching and unclenching his fists as though that simple movement could dispel his tension. “Just a dream,” he murmured to himself, trying to anchor his thoughts to the familiar and the rational. “That’s all it was.”

“Talking to yourself again, boy?”

The voice, low and firm, startled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see his father standing in the doorway. Tall and imposing, the Austrian Empire was a figure of solemnity and authority, with silver threading his dark hair and a sharp gaze that seemed to miss nothing. There was an unyielding quality to him, an aura that suggested he was as much a part of the old halls and stone walls as the castle itself.

“Father.” Austria-Hungary stood, managing a respectful bow. He hoped the flush on his cheeks went unnoticed.

The Austrian Empire raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over his son with a faint air of appraisal. “I trust you’re ready for today’s meeting? The council members will be expecting both of us.”

“Yes, of course,” Austria-Hungary replied, fighting to keep his voice steady. His father wasn’t one to tolerate excuses, and Austria-Hungary wasn’t about to mention the restless night he’d had—or the reason for it. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” The Austrian Empire nodded approvingly. “There’s a lot at stake. The negotiations with the council have been strained, and it’s time to address the distribution of resources. Certain factions have grown impatient, and I expect you to show them that an empire remains undivided in strength and purpose.”

“Yes, Father,” he replied, feeling his shoulders square instinctively under his father’s intense gaze. There was a small swell of pride in him, too, at the thought of proving himself. Politics, numbers, the affairs of an empire—these were things he could understand, control. Far more tangible than shadows and whispers.

With that, the Austrian Empire turned and led the way down the long corridor. Austria-Hungary followed, doing his best to match his father’s confident stride. But as they moved through the castle’s hallways, he couldn’t shake the lingering weight of the previous night. Every shadow seemed to flicker at the edge of his vision, and the faintest sound of the wind through the stone corridors made him tense. He scolded himself silently, pushing the memory down. He couldn’t afford to let it distract him.

The council chambers were already bustling with advisors and noblemen by the time they arrived, the room filled with the murmur of voices and the shuffling of documents.

Austria-Hungary recognized most of the figures seated around the large oak table: men from powerful families, representatives of distant provinces, all with their own agendas and interests. The discussions were always charged, but Austria-Hungary had grown accustomed to the tension in the room.

As he took his place beside his father, he caught sight of the topic they’d be addressing today—a stack of reports detailing the profits from trade, agriculture, and mineral resources across the empire. This meeting would decide how the revenues were to be distributed among the various territories, a task that always led to heated debates. Each region clamored for a larger share, claiming greater contributions or more pressing needs.

A small part of him felt relief as he leaned over the documents, letting the complexity of the numbers consume his focus. He could lose himself in the logic, the order of it all.

The Austrian Empire began the meeting with his usual gravitas, his voice filling the room as he outlined the expectations for today’s negotiations.

“Gentlemen,” he said, his tone firm and unyielding, “the strength of our empire depends on unity. If we are to endure, each territory must recognize its place in the whole. We cannot afford to let greed and division weaken us.”

A nobleman from the southern provinces leaned forward, his expression guarded. “With all due respect, your majesty, the southern territories have borne the weight of production this year. Our harvests were plentiful, yet we’ve seen little return. The needs of our people grow, and we cannot ignore their voices.”

Austria-Hungary watched his father’s expression remain impassive as he listened, every inch the sovereign leader. “The southern territories contribute greatly, it’s true,” the Austrian Empire replied, a note of acknowledgment in his voice. “But so do the mines in the northern mountains, the trade routes along the Danube, and the defense posts to the east. Every region plays a role, and the resources must be divided accordingly.”

As the debate continued, Austria-Hungary found himself drawn into it, grappling with the details, the demands, the intricacies of each territory’s needs. He could almost forget the shadows that clung to his thoughts, the nagging feeling that there was something watching, waiting, lurking just beyond the reach of his reason.

But every now and then, as he sifted through the ledgers and weighed the merits of each claim, a sliver of fear crept up his spine. The whispers of the Nachtkrapp floated back to him, fragments of the nightmare resurfacing in his mind. He fought to suppress them, reminding himself that he was here, in the bright light of day, surrounded by familiar faces. There was nothing to fear in the waking world.

“Your thoughts, Austria?” His father’s voice cut through his reverie, and Austria-Hungary blinked, focusing back on the room.

All eyes were on him, and he cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. “I believe the southern provinces have made valid points,” he said, his voice steady. “However, if we increase their share this season, we must adjust allocations from other sources. Perhaps the trade routes through the Danube could temporarily forfeit a portion of their revenue to accommodate the southern regions’ needs.”

There were murmurs of agreement and a few nods from the council members. His father watched him carefully, his expression unreadable, but Austria-Hungary thought he saw a flicker of approval in his gaze.

“A fair compromise,” the Austrian Empire agreed. “Let it be noted and carried.”

The council members resumed their debate, delving into the finer details of the arrangement.

Austria-Hungary relaxed slightly, feeling the tension in his chest loosen, if only by a small margin. He had made it through the meeting, and proven himself capable in his father’s eyes. It was something he could hold on to—a sign that he could command respect, even if he was still learning.

Yet, as the hours dragged on, the conversation drifting between profit and policies, Austria-Hungary couldn’t completely shake the chill in his bones. Every now and then, he caught himself glancing over his shoulder, scanning the edges of the room, as if expecting to see a shadowed figure watching him from the corner.

But the room remained as it was, grounded in reality, the light streaming through the high windows, the hum of conversation around him. He forced himself to focus, to remain present, but there was no ignoring the weight in his gut, the invisible thread pulling him back to that moonlit alley, to the figure with wings of darkness.

He pushed the thought away, burying it beneath the routine of the day. For now, at least, he would pretend it hadn’t happened.

---

The meeting was winding down, the council members gathering their notes and exchanging polite nods as they prepared to leave. The discussion had gone smoother than Austria-Hungary had expected; his suggestion to divert a portion of the Danube trade revenue had been met with more approval than dissent, and the southern provinces seemed momentarily appeased. Even so, his mind had been only half-present, the other half still wandering back to last night, pulled toward it as if by an invisible tether.

As the last of the murmurs died down, the Austrian Empire gave a curt nod to his son before addressing the council.

“Gentlemen,” he began, his voice clear and commanding, “we will reconvene tomorrow to review the finalized allocations. Our work here strengthens us all. But I must remind you that our internal unity is only the first step.”

The council members shifted slightly, some pausing to listen while others cast polite glances toward the door, eager to depart. Austria-Hungary’s gaze sharpened, sensing the gravity in his father’s words.

“Tomorrow’s gathering will not be one of internal matters alone. Our allies, particularly the German Empire, have expressed interest in discussing military collaboration and trade agreements that would affect all of us,” the Austrian Empire continued, his gaze scanning the room with an intensity that commanded attention. “This meeting is a matter of national security and alliance. I expect each of you to be prepared.”

Austria-Hungary felt the blood drain from his face. His breath caught, and he forced himself to keep still, his hands clenched tightly under the table. Kaiserreich. That one name echoed through his mind, louder than his father’s steady voice, blotting out the rest of the words.

The council members murmured in agreement, most of them clearly unfazed by the prospect of meeting their allies. Austria-Hungary struggled to keep his expression neutral, to not betray the dread seeping into his veins.

The Austrian Empire gave his son a brief, assessing glance before continuing, “I trust you’ll all be discreet with our international guests. Their presence here should be a reminder of the responsibility that comes with power. Kaiserreich will, of course, be present to represent

German interests. His resources and influence are invaluable to us.” He paused, a look of unspoken expectation passing between father and son. “Austria, I expect you to be well-prepared to engage him.”

“Yes, Father,” Austria-Hungary replied, his voice steady though it took every ounce of his composure to keep it so. “I’ll be ready.”

The Austrian Empire nodded approvingly, oblivious to his son’s inner turmoil. “Good. We cannot afford missteps. Dismissed.”

With that, the room began to clear, council members departing in groups, some discussing lingering issues while others spoke of lighter topics. Austria-Hungary stayed in his seat, his mind reeling. He could still see Kaiserreich’s silhouette against the darkened alley, those piercing eyes watching him with a mixture of amusement and something else—something older, darker, beyond human comprehension.

Austria-Hungary felt his throat tighten as he fought to remind himself that it hadn’t been real, couldn’t have been real. Nightmares and shadows could twist the mind, after all, and he’d been foolish enough to go wandering after dark, vulnerable to any trick of the light. Yes, that must have been it.

But a small voice in the back of his mind whispered doubts, calling him foolish for trying to brush it off as mere fancy. Something inside him knew that Kaiserreich hadn’t just been toying with him in that alley. There had been a darkness, a weight in the air, a sense that he had seen something he wasn’t meant to see. Something ancient and powerful.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice his father approaching until the Austrian Empire was standing directly in front of him, his expression stern.

“Austria.” His father’s voice brought him sharply back to the present. “A word.”

He rose, schooling his expression into one of polite attention, and followed his father from the council chambers, down a quiet hallway where they would not be overheard. The Austrian Empire turned to him, his gaze sharp, assessing.

“Your performance today was acceptable,” he said, the compliment wrapped in his usual tone of authority. “But tomorrow, you must be more than adequate. Representing the empire among our allies is no small task.”

Austria-Hungary nodded. “I understand, Father.”

“Do you?” There was a note of skepticism in his father’s voice, a flicker of something more intense than usual. “You’re no longer a child, Austria, and the German Empire will expect you to stand as an equal, not a junior partner. You must prove you’re worthy of their alliance.”

The words settled over him like a weight, and Austria-Hungary felt his hands clench once again, a faint sheen of sweat forming at his brow. His father’s approval was no small thing, and neither was the challenge laid out before him. He knew his father valued the alliance with Kaiserreichdeeply; he had reminded him often of its importance, the strength it brought, and the protection it offered. And after last night, Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but feel that the German Empire was far more than an ally—it was something primal, a force he didn’t yet understand.

“I’ll show them I’m ready,” he said, his voice firmer than he felt. He didn’t let his father see the doubts gnawing at his mind, the fear tightening his chest.

The Austrian Empire’s expression softened, just a fraction, and he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Good. This empire will be yours to lead one day. Remember that alliances are built on trust, but respect… that is something earned. And it’s earned by strength, Austria.”

He nodded, feeling the weight of his father’s words, the promise and responsibility they held. It was a heavy mantle to carry, but he had been raised for this purpose, to command respect and to hold his head high even when the path seemed shadowed.

When his father left, Austria-Hungary took a deep breath, willing himself to let go of the memories that clung to him. Perhaps, when he met Kaiserreich tomorrow, it would all be explained—he would see him in the daylight, among others, a fellow empire, a powerful ally.

Surely, there would be no trace of the terrifying figure that had haunted him. He was imagining things, he told himself again. It was easier to believe that than to accept the idea that what he’d seen might have been real.

As he walked back to his room, he resolved to bury the experience, to let it dissolve into the realm of dreams and fantasies. He had a duty to perform, a reputation to uphold. Dwelling on shadows would only weaken him.

But that night, as he prepared for bed, he found himself staring out the window, his gaze drifting to the darkened streets below. His room was cast in familiar shadows, but every flicker, every small shift of darkness, sent a shiver through him. He lay down, pulling the blankets tightly around himself, his mind racing in circles, chasing thoughts he couldn’t quite catch.

The hours passed, and sleep remained elusive. His mind kept returning to the steady cadence of Kaiserreich’s voice, the way it had sounded both amused and deadly serious. The shadows outside his window seemed to stretch a little further than usual, and the wind carried a faint whisper, one he could almost recognize.

His chest tightened as he remembered the exact words Kaiserreich had left him with. "Run, if you dare. But know that I’ll be right behind you."

Austria-Hungary shuddered, rolling over in bed and shutting his eyes tightly, willing himself to ignore the feeling that something—or someone—was still out there, watching.

Chapter Text

         Austria-Hungary stirred awake, his chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. The dark swallowed his room, a deep, impenetrable black that stretched across the ceiling and crawled into the corners. For a brief, confused moment, he lay still, trying to remember if he’d heard a sound or if it had simply been another fragment of his restless dreams.

But it was not the cold bite of a nightmare that had awoken him this time. Instead, a dryness clung to his throat, an ache that felt almost painfully raw. He swallowed, the scratchiness refusing to ease, and realized that he was desperately thirsty.

He sat up, blinking against the darkness, and cast his gaze toward the water pitcher on his bedside table. Empty. He stared at it for a long moment, silently willing it to somehow provide him with the relief he craved, but it stayed as dry as the air in the room.

With a soft sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, pushing himself up. A familiar coldness settled into his bones as he glanced at the closed door. The thought of venturing out into the castle’s dim corridors made his stomach twist, but he straightened his back and told himself he was being foolish. It was only a quick walk to the kitchen. Nothing more.

"Just shadows," he reminded himself, running his fingers through his hair and trying to brush away the lingering tendrils of fear that clung to him. "Just shadows."

He eased the door open, cringing at the soft creak as he stepped into the hallway. A faint moonlight filtered through the high, narrow windows, casting silvery patches across the floor and walls. The corridor stretched out before him, long and silent, each step seeming to echo louder than it should have. He reminded himself that he was alone, that there was nothing waiting for him in the darkness.

Still, he couldn’t help the way his heart raced as he took those first steps down the hallway, the back of his neck prickling as though he were being watched. Every corner seemed sharper, every shadow darker, and he forced himself to keep his gaze forward, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder.

His footsteps were quiet against the stone floor, each one carrying him farther from the familiar comfort of his room. The old castle walls seemed to press in around him, heavy with years of secrets, as though they bore witness to every footfall, every shallow breath.

Halfway to the kitchen, he paused, his gaze flickering to a long, narrow corridor that branched off to his left. He remembered playing there as a child, exploring every twist and turn, his younger self unafraid of the secrets the shadows held. But now, the narrow passage seemed to stretch out endlessly, its depths swallowing the faint moonlight until it faded into complete blackness.

He tore his gaze away, shaking his head slightly. "It’s nothing," he told himself, turning his focus back to the path ahead. "Just an empty corridor." But despite his attempts at reassurance, he picked up his pace, his heart thudding a little faster.

As he rounded a corner, he almost jumped at the sight of his own reflection in a large, gilded mirror hanging on the wall. He came to a halt, staring at the faint outline of his own face in the moonlit glass, his expression drawn and slightly pale. For a moment, he could have sworn there was something else in the reflection, a shadow that seemed to shift and blend with his own form. But when he looked closer, it was only himself, his own eyes wide and tense.

With a soft exhale, he continued on, his steps carrying him closer to the kitchen. He focused on his goal, counting each step as a way to distract himself from the lingering sense of unease that tugged at him, the prickling sensation at the back of his neck refusing to fade.

As he approached the staircase, he hesitated. The darkness pooled at the bottom like a waiting shadow, the faintest hint of moonlight catching only the first few steps. He took a deep breath, telling himself it was simply his imagination, and forced himself down the stairs. Each step was slow, deliberate, the stone cold beneath his bare feet.

When he finally reached the bottom, he took a shaky breath, glancing around the familiar shadows of the lower corridor. Here, the kitchen was just a few doors down—a comforting thought, though each stretch of hallway still seemed to extend longer than it should have, the moonlight filtering in faint and pale.

The shadows seemed thicker here, clinging to the walls, draping over furniture and paintings. He could just make out the figure of an ancient suit of armor standing at the far end of the hall, its hollow eyes catching the faintest glimmer of light. For a brief, irrational moment, he imagined it watching him, its metal form waiting silently, guarding the secrets hidden in the darkened halls.

He moved past it quickly, his eyes trained on the faint light spilling out from beneath the kitchen door. It was a small relief to see it, a reminder that there was something solid and familiar waiting for him at the end of this midnight venture.

Finally, he reached the kitchen, the heavy wooden door cool against his hand as he pushed it open. The kitchen was dimly lit by the faint glow of a single lantern, left burning low to ward off the darkness. He stepped inside, the warm smell of lingering spices and baked bread a welcome contrast to the chill of the empty hallways.

He crossed the room, his steps softer now, and found the water pitcher on the counter. Pouring himself a glass, he drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing the dryness in his throat. For a moment, he allowed himself to relax, his shoulders loosening as he leaned against the counter, the steady rhythm of his breathing filling the quiet.

But as he set the glass down, a faint sound caught his attention—a soft, almost imperceptible creak, like the gentle sway of a door. He straightened, his gaze drifting to the open doorway.

The hall beyond was silent, empty, but his mind conjured images of shadows shifting in the corners, of eyes watching from the darkness.

He reminded himself that he was alone, that there was no one lurking in the shadows. Yet his feet seemed rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the doorway as though he expected something to emerge from the darkness at any moment.

For a long time, he stood there, his heart thudding loudly in his chest, every small sound magnified in the quiet. He could hear the faint crackle of the dying embers in the stove, the soft creak of the floorboards as he shifted his weight. The silence was heavy, pressing down on him, each passing second stretching longer than the last.

Finally, he shook himself, pulling his gaze away from the doorway. "It’s just the dark," he told himself, turning back to the counter. "Just an empty hallway." He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and reminded himself that he was no longer a child, that shadows and silence held no power over him.

He picked up his glass, filling it once more, and took another slow sip, letting the coolness settle his nerves. The act was methodical, grounding, and he focused on the familiar sensations—the coolness of the water, the feel of the glass in his hand—as he tried to ignore the prickling sensation that continued to haunt him.

When he set the glass down, he glanced at the doorway once more, his heart slowing just slightly as he saw the hall was still as empty as before. He let out a soft breath, almost a laugh, though it was tinged with nerves. How foolish he must look, jumping at shadows, letting himself be haunted by memories and fears that were nothing more than remnants of a bad dream.

He wiped his hands on a nearby cloth, steeling himself for the walk back to his room. The journey would be quick, he reminded himself. Just a few minutes, a few steps through the quiet halls. Nothing more.

As he stepped back into the hallway, he paused, his gaze drifting over the familiar shadows that stretched along the floor. The silence felt different now, heavier, but he forced himself to take a step forward, his movements careful and deliberate.

Each step brought him closer to the stairwell, his heart racing a little faster with every footfall. He kept his gaze forward, avoiding the mirrors, the darkened windows, the empty corridors that branched off from his path. He could almost hear the faintest whisper of his own breath, the soft exhale mixing with the quiet of the castle.

When he finally reached the staircase, he hesitated once more, glancing back over his shoulder. The kitchen lay empty behind him, the door closed and silent. He swallowed, forcing himself to look away, and took the first step up, the familiar ache of exhaustion settling back into his bones.

With each step, the hall grew farther away, fading into darkness as he climbed. The shadows shifted and stretched around him, but he reminded himself that he was safe, that he was alone.

When he finally reached the top, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. He hurried back to his room, the silence pressing in around him as he closed the door behind him. For a moment, he stood there, listening, his hand still resting on the doorknob. The castle was quiet, the shadows calm and undisturbed.

---

He lingered by the door a moment longer, hand still resting on the cold metal of the knob as he scanned his room, lit only by the faint silver glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains. The shadows felt deeper tonight, gathering in the corners like silent witnesses to his midnight trek.

Austria-Hungary’s throat tightened as he forced himself to turn away from the door, letting the quiet surround him as he moved back toward the bed.

But the silence seemed to grow heavier with each step, pressing against his skin, settling in his lungs. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something lingered in the darkness beyond the window, hidden from sight yet somehow very present.

He climbed into bed, the mattress cool against his back as he lay down and pulled the blankets tightly around him. The simple act of lying down felt almost defiant, a way to convince himself that he’d conquered his foolish fears, left them behind in the empty hallways. But as he closed his eyes, his mind betrayed him, replaying every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind as he’d made his way through the castle.

He opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling. The room was perfectly still, each shadow frozen in place. And yet, he could feel a prickle at the edge of his consciousness, an awareness that refused to fade, telling him that he was not alone. He reminded himself of the empty halls, the silent rooms, the lack of any sign of movement or life beyond his own.

It was ridiculous, he told himself, his lips pressing into a firm line. He had to get control of himself, had to silence this gnawing fear that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second. He was Austria-Hungary, an empire, destined to command respect and loyalty—not some nervous child hiding from shadows in the dark.

And yet, the feeling persisted, threading itself into his thoughts, tugging at his senses. He shifted beneath the covers, forcing himself to take slow, measured breaths, each one a deliberate attempt to calm his racing heart.

But just as he started to relax, a faint sound caught his attention—a soft rustling, so quiet it could have been his imagination. He lay still, straining his ears, listening intently. The sound came again, a gentle whisper like fabric brushing against stone, just outside his door. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, and he clenched the blanket, his mind racing.

"It’s just the wind," he thought, trying to dismiss the sound as something ordinary, something mundane. But the rational part of his mind offered no comfort; the castle was sealed tight against drafts, and there had been no breeze in the hallways, no open windows to explain the sound.

The faint rustling continued, growing softer, moving away from his door until it faded into the silence. He waited, his ears attuned to every faint creak and groan of the old castle, every whisper of the night. But the sound did not return, leaving him in an empty, unsettling stillness.

Slowly, he forced himself to relax, the tension draining from his muscles as he lay back, eyes drifting shut. He knew he was being foolish, that he’d let his own fears get the better of him.

There was nothing out there, nothing lurking in the shadows or waiting in the halls. And yet, as he settled into the quiet, he could feel the weight of his own denial pressing down on him, a reminder that he’d seen something last night, something he couldn’t explain.

He pushed the thought away, willing himself to think of other things, lighter things—political matters, plans for the next council meeting, anything to drown out the memories that clawed at the edges of his mind. Slowly, the tension began to ebb, his thoughts drifting as sleep finally pulled him under.

But his rest was far from peaceful. His dreams were filled with shadows, shifting figures that melted into darkness and reformed as something monstrous, eyes gleaming with a strange, otherworldly light. In his dream, he was back in the alleyway, the cold pressing against his skin as he tried to escape the figure that lurked just beyond the edge of his vision.

He could feel the weight of its gaze, heavy and unyielding, following him with a silent hunger. He ran, his footsteps echoing in the empty streets, but no matter how fast he went, the figure was always there, just a step behind, waiting.

He awoke with a start, his chest heaving, the echo of his own footsteps still ringing in his ears. His room was as he had left it, the moonlight casting soft shadows across the walls. But the silence felt different now, more oppressive, as though the darkness itself was aware of his fear, feeding off it, reveling in it.

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, to silence the frantic beat of his heart. ‘It was only a dream,’ he told himself, repeating the words over and over until they became a mantra, a shield against the memories that lingered, refusing to fade.

But as he lay there, wrapped in the quiet of his room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, that the shadows in the castle held secrets he was not meant to uncover. And deep down, he knew that no amount of denial or bravado would ever be enough to keep the fear at bay.

Chapter Text

         Austria-Hungary sat quietly in his seat, the low hum of the train car mingling with the steady rhythm of the wheels clacking over the tracks. Outside the window, the landscape rolled by in a blur of deep green forests and mist-cloaked mountains, each passing mile bringing him closer to the northern reaches of his territory. Closer to his meeting with Kaiserreich.

Despite his best efforts to remain calm, his pulse fluttered with a relentless nervousness that refused to settle. Every time he caught his own reflection in the glass, he saw the faintest trace of that anxious energy glimmering in his eyes, something he hoped his father hadn’t noticed.

But as usual, his father’s gaze was sharp.

“You seem uncharacteristically restless today,” the Austrian Empire noted, his voice carrying a tone of gentle reproach as he adjusted his cuff links. He fixed Austria-Hungary with a stern look that softened only slightly with paternal affection. “Are you sure you’re ready to meet with Kaiserreich? I hope you’re aware that this alliance demands a certain…discipline.”

Austria straightened, folding his hands in his lap as he tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. “I am more than ready, Vater,” he replied, forcing a smile as he carefully met his father’s gaze. “It’s just the excitement. I’m looking forward to proving myself.”

The Austrian Empire raised an eyebrow, a glint of approval mixed with skepticism in his eyes.

“Excitement?” he repeated, his tone skeptical but not entirely disbelieving. “Yes, I suppose that would be a fitting answer for a young man such as yourself.”

For a moment, Austria allowed himself to relax, feeling a small measure of satisfaction at having successfully diverted his father’s attention. He settled back into his seat, feigning an air of quiet confidence as he watched the landscape pass by, his hands folded neatly on his lap.

His father continued to speak, his words weaving a lecture of expectations and alliances, of mutual benefit and careful maneuvering. Austria listened, nodding at the right moments, letting his father’s voice fill the car, the familiar weight of duty settling over him like a well-worn coat.

But his mind wandered, each word nudging his thoughts back to Kaiserreich, the man he was soon to meet. The German Empire was only a few years his senior, but his reputation was as unyielding as his sense of pride—a pride that was sincere, born not from arrogance but from an unwavering commitment to the standards he upheld with near-mechanical precision.

Kaiserreich’s presence in meetings was spoken of in whispers, stories of his exacting standards and his relentless pursuit of perfection coloring the accounts. Austria had heard them all: the way the German arrived precisely on time, how he maintained a meticulous appearance, and how his words, though few, were always chosen with purpose and care.

It was a reputation that commanded both admiration and caution, and Austria couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to step into something far larger than he’d ever imagined. He’d spentthe days leading up to this journey memorizing every protocol, every formality, but doubt still crept in, a quiet question that tugged at the back of his mind, one that asked if he’d truly be able to meet Kaiserreich’s standards.

The Austrian Empire’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

“Remember,” his father was saying, “this alliance is not one of convenience, but of necessity. Kaiserreich and I have a shared vision—a unified strength. It’s imperative that you conduct yourself with the dignity and discipline befitting of your heritage. He will expect no less.”

Austria nodded, his expression serious, every word a reminder of the weight that rested on his shoulders. “Of course, Vater. I understand the importance of this alliance.”

The Austrian Empire regarded him for a moment, his eyes searching, and then he seemed satisfied. With a small nod, he turned his gaze back to the view beyond the window, leaving Austria to his thoughts.

As the train began to slow, its gentle rocking fading into a soft halt, Austria’s pulse quickened. He felt the weight of his father’s gaze shift away, granting him a brief reprieve. Taking a quick breath, he excused himself, rising from his seat with a bow before slipping down the aisle to his personal train car.

Inside, he closed the door behind him, leaning back against it as he took a steadying breath, his heart still racing with the anticipation of the meeting ahead. He glanced around the room, checking that his belongings were in order, his clothes neatly pressed, his appearance polished.

Moving to the small mirror mounted on the wall, he adjusted the cuffs of his jacket, smoothing the fabric, his hands steady even as his mind spun with anxious thoughts. He tugged at the collar, making sure it lay flat, and smoothed his hair, each movement precise, mechanical. He knew that every detail mattered, that every flaw would be noticed by Kaiserreich.

In the dim light of the car, he studied his own reflection, willing himself to appear calm, assured, the picture of poise and refinement. This was his chance, he reminded himself, to prove that he could match Kaiserreich’s standards, to show that he was not simply an apprentice to his father but an empire in his own right.

But beneath his careful exterior, the tension lingered, a quiet tremor that refused to fade. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, a gnawing uncertainty that told him this meeting was different, that it would demand more from him than he’d ever been asked to give. And though he wore the mask of confidence, he knew that he was stepping into uncharted territory, a realm of expectations that would test every ounce of his composure.

Taking one final look at himself, he straightened, his eyes hardening with resolve. He was Austria-Hungary, an empire in his own right, and he would not allow himself to falter.Austria-Hungary followed his father from the train platform, his back straight, chin lifted as he willed himself to exude the composure he had so carefully practiced. Ahead of them stood the Linz Landhaus, its grand stone facade casting deep shadows in the morning light, a fitting place for this critical meeting.

The Austrian Empire strode forward with an air of authority that Austria could only hope to mirror. Each step took him closer to the ornate entrance of the building, where a line of officials awaited, standing at attention with quiet reverence. And among them, one figure stood out unmistakably: Kaiserreich.

The German Empire’s presence was an undeniable force, like a current of electricity in the air, commanding the attention of everyone around him without a word. He was tall and imposing, his posture perfectly straight, his expression carved from stone, exuding both masculine strength and an aura of calculated control. His sharp, steely eyes observed everything with a dispassionate calm, the faintest flicker of appraisal evident as his gaze passed over Austria.

Austria felt his pulse quicken, his palms growing damp even as he struggled to maintain his collected exterior. He had heard of Kaiserreich’s formidable presence, but no amount of secondhand accounts could have prepared him for this. Kaiserreich’s every movement spoke of power and precision, each step calculated, each gesture perfectly measured. In comparison, Austria felt young, almost inadequate, but he pushed these thoughts aside, forcing himself to meet the German Empire’s gaze with a polite nod.

The Austrian Empire took a step forward, his own composure unfaltering as he addressed Kaiserreich. “Kaiserreich,” he greeted with a formal nod. “It’s a pleasure to see you once again.”

Kaiserreich inclined his head in response, his voice steady and deep, holding the weight of his title as if it were an extension of his very being. “The pleasure is mutual, Austrian Empire,” he replied, his gaze flickering toward Austria for the briefest of moments before returning to his father. “I trust you had a smooth journey.”

“Indeed,” the Austrian Empire replied. “And we’ve brought my son, Austria, with us. I thought it fitting that he be present for our discussions.”

Kaiserreich turned his full attention to Austria, and the weight of that gaze felt almost physical, pressing against him with a scrutiny that left no detail overlooked. Austria felt his breath catch, but he quickly recovered, bowing in respectful greeting.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Kaiserreich,” he said, keeping his voice steady and his expression respectful.

Kaiserreich nodded, his gaze assessing. “The honor is shared,” he replied, his words polite yet formal, carrying an unspoken expectation that Austria couldn’t quite decipher. “We hold Austria in high regard.”

The words, though intended as praise, felt like a challenge, as if Kaiserreich were quietly testing whether Austria could live up to the reputation bestowed upon him. Austria straightened, forcing himself to meet that gaze, letting the compliment settle over him like a mantle he was still learning to wear.

Kaiserreich's gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned to address the officials waiting beside the entrance, gesturing for the party to proceed inside. They moved through the grand entryway, Austria trailing slightly behind his father and Kaiserreich, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the impressions left by the German Empire’s presence.

Inside the Linz Landhaus, the atmosphere was hushed, the high ceilings and sweeping arches casting a reverent stillness over the gathering. Austria watched Kaiserreich’s every move, noting the quiet authority with which he surveyed the room, his every step measured and purposeful. It was clear that Kaiserreich was a man of discipline, each action precise, each expression restrained, his presence almost a force in itself.

Austria felt a surge of determination rise within him. This was his moment, his chance to prove that he was worthy of this alliance, of the role he’d been groomed for. He squared his shoulders, keeping his expression carefully composed as he took his place beside his father, his eyes fixed forward, intent on projecting the confidence that was expected of him.

As they entered the conference chamber, Austria found himself caught between his father’s quiet, controlled strength and Kaiserreich’s almost magnetic authority. The two older empires exchanged nods as they took their seats, their movements synchronized as if by instinct, leaving Austria with the distinct impression that this was a conversation he’d been invited to observe, rather than fully participate in.

“Now then,” the Austrian Empire began, his voice steady, “shall we proceed with the matters at hand?”

Kaiserreich nodded, his expression unchanging, yet a subtle gleam of focus sparked in his eyes as he folded his hands before him. “Yes. The economic matters are, as always, a priority. I expect full cooperation to achieve a balanced benefit for all involved.”

Austria listened intently, trying to absorb each word, though the weight of the German Empire’s gaze seemed to bear down on him even when it was not directed his way. Every so often, he glanced to Kaiserreich, wondering what it would take to command such an air of confidence.

Austria’s chest tightened slightly, his mind circling back to a question he didn’t dare voice aloud: would he ever truly be able to match that?

The meeting began in earnest, his father and Kaiserreich exchanging strategies and insights with a precision that felt almost like a chess match, each move calculated, each word chosen with care. Austria followed their lead, nodding at intervals, hoping that his silence could pass for reverence rather than intimidation.

Finally, the Austrian Empire turned to his son, including him in the conversation with a nod of acknowledgment. “Austria, would you care to share your thoughts on the proposed tariffs with our northern territories?”

Austria felt every eye in the room shift to him, and he took a steadying breath, his mind scrambling to recall the key points he had prepared for just such a question. “This is your moment,” he told himself, “prove yourself.”

He straightened, clasping his hands in his lap as he began to speak. “I believe that the suggested tariffs would be beneficial for maintaining a balanced economy, particularly with regards to our shared resources with Bavaria and Prussia,” he said, his voice steady despite the tightness in his throat. “It will not only provide a steady flow of revenue but also support our infrastructure without straining any one region disproportionately.”

Kaiserreich inclined his head, his expression unreadable as he listened. For a tense moment, Austria couldn’t tell if his response had been well-received, if he’d managed to impress even a fraction of the weighty presence that Kaiserreich exuded with such ease.

Finally, Kaiserreich nodded, his gaze briefly settling on Austria with what might have been a flicker of approval. “A fair assessment,” he said, his tone carefully measured. “We shall take it into consideration.”

The moment passed quickly, but Austria felt a surge of relief, a small victory that bolstered his confidence, if only slightly. He sat back, keeping his expression composed as he willed his heartbeat to slow, knowing he had taken one step closer to proving himself in the presence of these powerful figures.

As the discussion continued, he listened intently, learning from each exchange, each unspoken cue. Though his heart still raced with nerves, Austria felt the shadow of his anxiety begin to lift, replaced by a quiet determination. He would become an equal in this room one day—if not today, then in the future he was destined to inherit. And as long as he could hold his own under Kaiserreich’s gaze, he knew he would be one step closer to fulfilling his duty.

As the conversation wound down, the Austrian Empire leaned back in his chair, a look of approval flickering across his face as he exchanged a few final words with Kaiserreich. The German Empire’s expression remained inscrutable, but the air between the two held a sense of satisfaction, an understanding that their alignment was falling into place.

Kaiserreich’s gaze fell on Austria again, this time carrying a weight that felt like both a warning and a promise. “Austria,” he said, his tone even, “you speak well for your position. I expect you’ll prove just as able in practice.”

The praise was carefully measured, yet it struck a chord deep within Austria. He felt his resolve tighten, a silent vow building within him. “Thank you, Kaiserreich. I will not disappoint you.”

Kaiserreich nodded, and without further words, he rose from his seat, his movements brisk and deliberate as he prepared to depart. The Austrian Empire followed suit, exchanging a final, respectful nod with his counterpart. Austria hastened to follow, positioning himself just behind his father as they moved to escort Kaiserreich back toward the main hall.

As they reached the grand entrance of the Linz Landhaus, Austria felt the enormity of the moment settle over him, the reality of what this alliance could mean for his future—and the future of the lands they represented. This alliance was more than a simple agreement; it was a legacy, a commitment to a unified power, a promise that he would one day be expected to uphold.

Kaiserreich paused at the threshold, casting a last glance over the grand hall, his gaze sweeping over Austria with the faintest hint of regard. “Our strength lies in unity,” he said, his voice quiet yet firm, a reminder as much as an expectation. “I trust you understand what that will require.”

Austria met the German Empire’s gaze, his chest tightening as he returned the solemn nod. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

With that, Kaiserreich inclined his head and exited, his every step echoing through the grand hall as he departed, leaving behind an air of authority that lingered long after he was gone.

The Austrian Empire watched him disappear through the towering doors before turning back to his son. “Today, you’ve made a strong first impression,” he said, his tone both proud and expectant. “This is only the beginning, Austria. Remember what you’ve learned here.”

Austria nodded, his mind swirling with the weight of the morning’s events. He straightened, breathing in the quiet power of the hall, feeling a quiet determination settle within him. Today, he had stood among the strongest, held his own beneath the scrutinizing gaze of Kaiserreich. It was a small victory, but he knew it would be the first of many steps he would take on this path.

As he looked up at his father, he felt the shadow of his nervousness fall away, replaced by the promise of the future that awaited him.

Chapter Text

         The gentle sway of the train lulled the evening into a quiet stillness as Austria-Hungary settled in his private car, a book open in his lap. Outside the window, the sky had deepened into a somber twilight, shades of blue and violet melting into the darkening landscape. The faint glow of distant towns flickered past, leaving pockets of light scattered along the horizon, though they only seemed to make the shadows inside the train car feel heavier.

As the night pressed in, Austria felt a familiar prickle at the back of his neck, a twinge of paranoia that made him glance over his shoulder as if expecting to find something lurking just beyond his sight. The memory of last night’s restlessness drifted back to him, filling his mind with images of endless corridors and shifting shadows. He took a slow breath, forcing himself to focus on the book in his hands, its pages steady and predictable beneath his fingertips.

But the words didn’t hold his attention. His gaze drifted absently to the window, where his reflection looked back at him, the dim light casting faint shadows over his face. As he met his own eyes, he felt the anxious tension in his chest ease slightly, as if reminding himself of who he was—a representative of the Austrian Empire, destined for more than momentary fears.

Slowly, almost unexpectedly, his thoughts drifted back to the meeting that had occupied his day, and with it, the image of Kaiserreich. He could still picture the German Empire’s commanding presence, the precise way he carried himself, and that ever-present air of confidence that seemed unshakable. It had been both intimidating and impressive, an embodiment of the strength Austria had often been taught to admire.

A faint warmth crept into his cheeks as he remembered the way Kaiserreich’s gaze had settled on him, cool and calculating, yet not without a certain gravity. 'He’s formidable,' Austria thought, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. And 'competent', he reminded himself. He could still hear the measured way Kaiserreich spoke, every word chosen with care, every gesture steeped in purpose.

Though he hadn’t realized it at the time, he found himself strangely drawn to that quiet intensity, the way it commanded both respect and admiration without a hint of arrogance. He’d heard countless stories of Kaiserreich’s efficiency, his standards, but seeing them firsthand had been something else entirely. It was a strength that radiated from him effortlessly, one Austria couldn’t help but admire.

Gradually, his mind slipped further into the memory, lingering over the subtle details he hadn’t allowed himself to consider in the moment. There had been an undeniable presence in Kaiserreich, a silent assurance that Austria couldn’t deny had made him feel a strange sense of longing, though for what he couldn’t quite place. A desire to prove himself, perhaps, but there was more to it than that. It was as if Kaiserreich had left an imprint on his mind, an echo of that steady confidence that lingered long after he’d departed.

Austria shifted slightly, resting his hand on his cheek as his thoughts continued to drift. He felt the faintest shiver of excitement at the memory of those few moments when Kaiserreich had addressed him directly, his words both precise and profound. “An alliance bound by strength,” he’d said, his tone cool yet somehow reassuring, his presence unyielding.

In the dim solitude of his train car, Austria allowed himself to dwell on the image of Kaiserreich with a curiosity that bordered on fascination. He couldn’t deny that the German was handsome, his features as chiseled and imposing as his reputation, carrying a certain rugged charm beneath his stoic demeanor. And yet, it wasn’t just his looks that lingered in Austria’s mind; it was the subtle power he exuded, a magnetism that made him feel both drawn and challenged at the same time.

Austria’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he glanced down, almost embarrassed by the direction of his thoughts. “What am I doing?” he chided himself, though there was no one around to witness the faint warmth still lingering in his cheeks. “I should be focusing on the future, on our alliance—not on…”

But his thoughts continued, unbidden, slipping into memories of the way Kaiserreich had carried himself, that quiet sense of self-assurance that seemed almost infectious. Austria wondered what it would be like to emulate that same strength, to hold himself with the same unshakable confidence. He pictured it for a brief moment—himself beside Kaiserreich, an equal presence in the room, sharing in that silent understanding, that camaraderie.

It was a strange thought, and yet…not entirely unpleasant.

A quiet sigh escaped him as he glanced back to his reflection in the window, the faint shadows of the passing night blending with his own image. Somehow, the train car felt warmer, the shadows less imposing, as if the memory of Kaiserreich’s presence had dispelled the lingering paranoia that had gnawed at him earlier.

He glanced back at his book, but found he no longer felt the need for distraction. The apprehension of the journey had melted away, leaving him with a faint sense of anticipation, a hope that, perhaps, he’d have another opportunity to prove himself beside Kaiserreich, to stand as his equal.

And as the train continued its steady journey toward Vienna, Austria allowed himself a rare moment of contentment, his mind drifting peacefully with thoughts of alliances, of shared ambitions—and of the German Empire who had, somehow, stirred something within him that felt both strange and unexpectedly thrilling.

---

Austria-Hungary’s fingers traced idly along the leather cover of his book, though he was hardly reading anymore. The twilight outside had deepened, casting the train car in an even murkier gloom. He couldn’t shake the tension gnawing at him, the sense that something lingered just beyond the window, waiting. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the tracks had started to feel ominous, like a heartbeat that pulsed in the dark, stretching each second into an eternity.

The sound of approaching footsteps jarred him from his thoughts. Austria’s heartbeat quickened until he saw the familiar outline of his father, who entered the car with his usual quiet authority.

Austria straightened, doing his best to mask the unease in his expression.

“We’ll be stopping soon,” the Austrian Empire announced, his gaze scrutinizing. “I trust you found today…enlightening?”

“Yes, Father,” Austria replied, keeping his voice steady. “I was grateful for the opportunity.”

“Good,” his father replied, though his expression softened only a fraction. He studied his son briefly, seeming to note the faint tension in Austria’s posture, then gave a nod. “Compose yourself. We must look the part in Vienna.”

With that, his father moved back through the train car, undoubtedly overseeing the final preparations for their arrival. Austria exhaled slowly, alone once more as the train rolled to a halt, its final shudder echoing in the quiet night air. Gathering his composure, Austria stood and straightened his jacket, giving himself a final once-over before stepping outside onto the empty platform.

A cold wind swept over him, carrying the faint scent of pine and the distant murmur of attendants bustling inside the train cars. The night around him felt as still as it was vast, the air thick with a silence that settled heavily on his chest. He glanced toward the nearby treeline, the shadows among the branches bending and shifting like strange specters. The familiar weight ofunease crept back into his mind, though he shook it off, determined not to let his nerves get the better of him.

But then, something moved. A faint, skittering noise, like claws against bark, drifted from the depths of the forest. Austria’s eyes narrowed, searching the branches as he strained to seeanything that could have made the sound. A cold prickle traveled down his spine, though he clenched his jaw, steeling himself. "This is nonsense," he told himself, forcing his feet to move forward. “The Nachtkrapp was just a myth—”

A shadow stirred, gliding through the branches, and then it stopped, a dark silhouette perched inthe trees. Austria felt his pulse spike, and he took a slow step back, his gaze locked on the figure as it shifted. A pair of piercing eyes caught the moonlight, glinting with a cruel intelligence, a silent intensity that sent a jolt through him. And then the shadow dropped down from the tree, landing with a muted thud on the forest floor, its figure resolving in the faint light.

It was Kaiserreich.

Only, this wasn’t the same man who had exuded quiet authority in the meeting. This was something other, something darker, with a predatory gleam in his eyes and a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he regarded Austria in the moonlight. The night seemed to close in around them, heavy and charged, wrapping around Kaiserreich like a cloak as he stepped forward with a smooth, almost feline grace.

“Out here all alone, Austria?” His voice was low, smooth, and carrying a hint of something almost…hungry. “Didn’t anyone tell you the night has eyes?”

Austria swallowed, forcing himself to stand his ground even as every instinct screamed at him to turn and run. “I— I thought…” he stammered, realizing too late that he had no excuse, no explanation for his actions. The confidence he’d worn earlier that day felt paper-thin in the face of Kaiserreich’s intense scrutiny, his calm veneer crumbling beneath the weight of that gaze.

Kaiserreich chuckled softly, a dark sound that seemed to ripple through the silence. “What were you hoping to find out here?” he murmured, his tone mocking yet strangely intimate. He took another step forward, his eyes never leaving Austria’s, and in that moment, the shadows around them felt alive, as if bending toward Kaiserreich, embracing him as one of their own.

“I…just needed air,” Austria managed, though his voice sounded faint even to himself. He could feel Kaiserreich’s eyes studying him, drinking in every flicker of hesitation, every slight movement that betrayed his unease.

“Air,” Kaiserreich echoed, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. “Ah, yes. A fitting answer, but a poor excuse.” He took another step closer, his presence enveloping, commanding, and Austria felt his heart hammer against his chest. “I told you once before, didn’t I? The night hides things, Austria. And it remembers everything.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, laden with a warning that thrummed through Austria’s veins like a distant drumbeat. There was a fierceness in Kaiserreich’s expression, a darkness that defied the civility he’d shown in the daylight. This was a creature of shadows, something raw and untamed that had slipped free of its restraints.

Austria’s throat felt tight, his words slipping from his grasp as he struggled to meet Kaiserreich’s gaze. The memory of their earlier meeting surfaced in his mind, the unyielding confidence that had captivated him—but here, in the dark, that confidence was transformed into something far more primal, an intensity that felt as though it could burn right through him.

Kaiserreich’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous spark, his gaze unwavering. “You’re awfully quiet, Austria. Didn’t you say you wanted to prove yourself?”

The words cut through Austria, and he felt his cheeks flush, a strange blend of fear and something else coiling in his chest. *He’s testing me,* he realized, the thought giving him a sliverof courage. He straightened, his chin lifting as he met Kaiserreich’s eyes, forcing himself to hold steady beneath that piercing gaze.

“I did,” Austria replied, though his voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Then prove it,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice a whisper of silk against the chill night air. He leaned in, his face mere inches from Austria’s, his breath warm against Austria’s cheek. “Show me that you’re more than a frightened boy lost in the dark.”

The challenge in his voice sent a thrill through Austria, a surge of adrenaline that chased away the last remnants of his fear. *He won’t make this easy,* Austria realized, and something within him rose to meet that challenge, an unspoken vow that he wouldn’t be intimidated, that he wouldn’t back down. He drew a steadying breath, his heart still racing, but his resolve firm as he met Kaiserreich’s gaze. “I am more than that,” he said, his voice stronger, holding onto the courage that had been ignited within him.

Kaiserreich’s smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with approval as he regarded Austria with an intensity that left him breathless. “Good,” he murmured, his voice a soft growl that reverberated through the silence. “Then remember this feeling, Austria. Because one day, you’ll be standing in the shadows beside me.”

With that, he straightened, his gaze lingering on Austria for one final, weighted moment before he stepped back, the shadows seeming to close around him as he moved. Austria felt the night swallow his presence, his figure melding into the dark as if he’d never been there.

And as the silence returned, Austria was left standing alone beneath the vast, star-strewn sky, his heart still racing, his pulse pounding with the memory of Kaiserreich’s words—a promise and a challenge that echoed in the depths of his mind, lingering long after the shadows had reclaimed him.

Chapter Text

         The familiar streets of Vienna rolled by, cloaked in the quiet embrace of night, as Austria-Hungary finally approached his residence. His bones felt heavy with exhaustion, each step up the grand staircase like wading through the fog. It was a welcome relief to finally reach his bedroom, to close the door on the day and the lingering shadows of his encounter with Kaiserreich. Shedding his jacket, he sank onto his bed, barely noticing the luxurious sheets beneath him as his eyes closed, his mind already drifting into sleep.

In his dreams, the night was warm, filled with the hum of whispered conversations and soft laughter. He stood in a ballroom, grand and timeless, a sea of candlelight dancing on the polished floors. The music drifted over him, a gentle waltz that pulled at his heart, and he felt a strange sense of anticipation as if he were waiting for someone. Then, through the soft glow and shadows, Kaiserreich appeared.

The German Empire looked relaxed, his sharp edges softened by the dream’s delicate lighting. His eyes were bright, warmer than Austria remembered, and his lips held the faintest hint of a smile as he approached, exuding a gentleness that felt almost unreal. He stopped in front of Austria, his hand extended in a quiet invitation. Without a word, Austria took it, allowing himself to be pulled into an easy, slow dance.

Their steps were perfectly in sync, moving across the floor as if they’d done it a hundred times before. Kaiserreich’s touch was warm, his hand resting against Austria’s waist as they swayed to the music, and Austria felt his heart thrum in time with the melody. The entire room faded into the background, leaving just the two of them, their eyes locked, each breath shared as they glided through the night.

“Didn’t know you could dance,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice soft, edged with a warmth that felt almost teasing. Austria felt his cheeks flush, though he managed a small smile in response, savoring the feeling of Kaiserreich’s hand in his own, his fingers warm and reassuring.

“Neither did I,” Austria admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips. It felt as if he were seeing a side of Kaiserreich that had been hidden until now, something tender, something almost intimate. He looked up, meeting Kaiserreich’s gaze, his heart quickening at the way the German’s eyes held him there, as if he were the only person in the world.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the music fading into a faint hum, and Austria felt a soft pressure on his hand as Kaiserreich’s fingers tightened slightly around his. He didn’t pull away; instead, he found himself leaning in, drawn to the warmth of Kaiserreich’s presence, the softness in his gaze that was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Kaiserreich’s smile grew, a warmth in his expression that made Austria feel almost vulnerable. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmured, his voice low and fond. He took a step closer, their faces inches apart, his eyes searching Austria’s as if he could see through every guarded part of him.

“Am I?” Austria managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. His heart raced, yet he felt a calmness settle over him, a peace in the shared silence between them.

Kaiserreich’s hand moved, brushing a loose strand of hair from Austria’s face, his fingers lingering near his cheek, and Austria felt a thrill run through him at the gentle, deliberate touch.

He looked into Kaiserreich’s eyes, captivated by the way they softened, the unspoken promise that lingered in the depths of his gaze.

“Yes,” Kaiserreich replied, his voice barely a murmur. “Quite a bit.” His thumb brushed lightly along Austria’s cheek, the faintest touch that sent a shiver through him, and Austria found himself leaning into the warmth of that hand, savoring the closeness, the way everything seemed to melt away in that single moment.

But then, the atmosphere shifted subtly, the warm glow deepening into something more intense, and Austria felt a different kind of anticipation settle over him as Kaiserreich’s smile turned mischievous, almost playful. The German’s eyes sparkled, a hint of humor dancing in his gaze as he held Austria’s hand a bit more firmly, his touch becoming less gentle and more…assertive.

“I must say,” Kaiserreich continued, his voice light, teasing, “you’re looking quite serious. Are you always this reserved?” His hand brushed along Austria’s waist, lingering in a way that felt both playful and challenging.

Austria’s cheeks flushed, a nervous chuckle escaping him as he met Kaiserreich’s gaze.

“I…don’t mean to be,” he managed, though his voice wavered slightly, unprepared for the sudden shift in the air between them.

Kaiserreich’s gaze softened, though the humor never left his eyes. “It’s endearing,” he said softly, his voice taking on a low, almost flirtatious tone that left Austria’s heart pounding. “You’re like the quiet moon, slipping through the night unnoticed…until someone looks close enough to see how bright it truly shines.”

Austria felt a warmth rise in his chest, his heart racing as he tried to meet the intensity in Kaiserreich’s gaze. “I… didn’t realize,” he murmured, his voice unsteady.

The German’s smirk deepened, his hand pressing lightly against Austria’s waist as he leaned in. “Perhaps I’m lucky, then,” he whispered, his breath warm against Austria’s ear, “to be the one who noticed.” The words sent a thrill through Austria, leaving him breathless, his cheeks flushed as he looked up, caught in the spell of Kaiserreich’s gaze, of the soft, teasing light that danced in his eyes.

Kaiserreich’s fingers traced a slow, deliberate line along Austria’s arm, sending a shiver through him as he spoke again, his voice a quiet murmur. “Tell me, Austria…” he said, his tone playful, yet edged with something warmer, something that felt dangerously close to affection. “Do you find yourself enjoying my company as much as I’m enjoying yours?”

Austria’s cheeks burned, and he struggled to find words, his gaze dropping for a moment before he looked up again, meeting the German’s gaze with a shy smile. “I…yes. I do,” he admitted, his voice soft, though his answer seemed to please Kaiserreich, whose smile grew, his expression one of genuine warmth.

They stood like that for a long moment, the music fading to a faint hum as Austria felt his heart pounding in time with the faint flicker of candlelight. He leaned in, drawn closer to Kaiserreich, savoring the warmth, the sense of closeness that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

But then, just as he reached to take Kaiserreich’s hand, the image began to fade, slipping through his fingers like a wisp of smoke, until he was left in the quiet darkness of his room, the faintest memory of the German Empire’s touch lingering on his skin.

Austria blinked awake, his room bathed in the soft gray light of early morning. He lay still for a moment, his heart still pounding, his cheeks warm with the remnants of the dream. The memories lingered, blurring the line between reality and fantasy, and Austria felt a strange sense of loss, as if the warmth of that dream were something he’d never truly held.

But the memory of Kaiserreich’s gentle words, of the way he’d looked at him, remained, stirring something deep within him that he couldn’t quite name. And as the first light of morning crept over the city, Austria found himself wondering if, perhaps, some dreams held a trace of truth, no matter how fleeting they might be.

He lay still for a moment, his mind trying to reassemble the images of the night—the warmth of Kaiserreich’s hand, the glint in his eye, the teasing smile. But as the reality of morning took hold, the dream felt fragile, its vividness fading like mist beneath the first rays of dawn.

With a sigh, he forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes as he pushed away the lingering weight of sleep. Despite the night’s rest, a dull exhaustion tugged at him, both body and mind still worn from the events of the last day. His gaze drifted to the window, where the faint light of dawn was just beginning to filter through, casting soft shadows that made his heart quicken momentarily before he reminded himself it was only the morning light.

He dressed slowly, each motion deliberate as he fought to shake the fatigue that clung to him. His mind, though drowsy, felt restless, the memory of the dream lingering at the edge of his thoughts like an itch he couldn’t scratch. 'It was just a dream,' he told himself, though the thought did little to calm the nervous energy building in his chest. The day ahead loomed over him, filled with meetings and expectations, and the very thought made his stomach twist.

His father’s voice drifted up from the hall, calling for him, and Austria hurried to finish his preparations. But as he caught his reflection in the mirror, he paused, a flash of unease stirring within him. His hair was tousled, his eyes slightly shadowed, and his shirt sat slightly askew, betraying the sleeplessness of the night before. He did his best to straighten himself, though theimage in the mirror seemed to hold a tiredness that wouldn’t be brushed away, a faint trace of something he couldn’t quite place.

Shaking his head, he forced himself to pull away from the mirror, knowing that his father would have little patience for lateness. He made his way down the hall, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet morning air until he found his father waiting for him, a faint crease of concern in his gaze as he looked his son over.

“Didn’t sleep well?” the Austrian Empire remarked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp, studying

Austria’s face with a quiet curiosity. “You look… tense.”

Austria hesitated, caught off guard by the observation. “I’m… fine, Father,” he replied, managing a faint smile. “Just… a lot on my mind.”

His father nodded, though his gaze remained skeptical. “Hmm. Don’t let it show, then. We’ve important matters to attend to today, and a clear mind is necessary for diplomacy.”

“Yes, Father.” Austria felt the familiar weight of expectation settle on his shoulders, though he kept his face steady, determined not to betray the lingering anxiety that stirred within him. He forced himself to stand a little taller, his expression smoothing into the calm mask he’d perfected over years of practice.

His father gave a satisfied nod before turning toward the door. “Good. I’ll expect you downstairs in a few minutes,” he instructed, his voice firm. “We leave soon.”

As his father’s footsteps receded down the hall, Austria took a steadying breath, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. *Compose yourself,* he told himself, though the words felt hollow, his reflection in the mirror betraying a flicker of something that lay just beneath the surface—a faint trace of worry, the remnants of a dream that lingered too close to reality.

With one last glance at the mirror, he forced himself to look away, pulling on his coat as he left the room. The weight of his father’s expectations settled over him like a familiar cloak, yet beneath it, a faint unease continued to twist in his chest, a lingering echo of the night’s shadows that refused to be dismissed.

When the day’s formalities finally drew to a close, he returned to his room, feeling the exhaustion settle into his bones once more. The quiet stillness of the evening surrounded him, though the faint creak of the house settling kept him on edge, his gaze drifting to the corners of the room, where the shadows seemed darker than usual. He forced himself to breathe, reminding himself that there was nothing to fear, that he was safe within the walls of his home. Yet as he sat on the edge of his bed, the silence pressed in around him, thick and unyielding.

The events of the day began to fade into the background, leaving only the quiet darkness, thefaint memory of a dream he couldn’t shake. He stared into the shadows, his mind replaying the words, the touch, the glint in Kaiserreich’s eye, and a chill settled over him.

His pulse quickened, and he could feel the beginnings of the old, familiar unease creeping over him, his thoughts drawn inexorably back to that shadowed figure beneath the trees. The memory of the night lingered at the edge of his thoughts, a quiet warning that refused to fade.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to ignore the twisting in his gut. But as he opened them again, his gaze fell once more to the darkness, where the shadows seemed to move, shifting just beyond his sight. A faint dread prickled at the back of his mind, and he felt the same fear settle over him, a quiet, persistent echo that left him staring into the dark, unable to shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching.

*****

Kaiserreich’s PoV:

(22:00)

The night had fully descended over Vienna, wrapping the city in its quiet, cool embrace. Hidden in the dense folds of shadows, Kaiserreich watched, his eyes sharp and glinting in the darkness.

From here, he could see Austria-Hungary clearly, his young ally pacing restlessly in his room, his movements tight with anxiety, his gaze flicking now and then toward the dark corners of the room, as if sensing the presence hidden there.

Kaiserreich allowed himself a silent chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk. “Poor Austria,” he mused, “jumping at shadows and phantoms, as if a little darkness were something to be feared.”

His presence was masked, cloaked in the silence of the night, but he delighted in the way Austria’s gaze lingered on the places where he could almost feel those dark, watchful eyes.

The boy was endearing, he had to admit—far too serious for his own good, trying so hard to prove himself in a world that demanded far too much of him. Kaiserreich tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something almost indulgent as he watched Austria fuss over his papers, his jacket, his neat little world that teetered so close to disorder.

Kaiserreich slipped a little closer, his movements silent, his gaze locked on Austria as the young Empire continued his restless vigil. Oh, how innocent Austria could be, so tied to his schedules, his routines, his measured little expectations. It was almost…charming.

“Still fretting over me, are you?” he thought, the words an unspoken murmur as he watched Austria’s brow furrow, his fingers tracing some unseen pattern on the table in a gesture that spoke of nerves. “I suppose I left quite the impression.” The thought amused him more than he’d expected, and he let his smirk widen as he observed the boy, the restless energy that clung to him like a shadow.

Though he’d never say it aloud, Kaiserreich found himself intrigued by this unlikely ally. Austria’s pride, his quiet dignity, his desperate desire to meet his father’s expectations—all of it formed a delicate puzzle, one that Kaiserreich enjoyed picking apart, layer by careful layer.

His gaze softened a fraction, tracing the faint line of Austria’s jaw, the way his hair fell slightly out of place after a restless night. So polished, so proper, and yet here he was, pacing in the dim light, as if afraid of what the night might bring.

Kaiserreich felt a flash of amusement, his thoughts growing wry. “If only you knew what truly lurked in these shadows, Austria.” He could practically hear Austria’s heart quicken, the faint shiver that came with the weight of being watched, though the boy didn’t yet know it was him—didn’t realize how close he stood, observing his every nervous glance, every quiet shift of unease.

It was almost too easy to keep Austria on edge, to draw out his fears with a simple flicker of movement, a mere shift in the shadows. But there was something satisfying about it, watching the boy struggle with the unknown, feeling the weight of his presence even without truly seeing it.

“You’re a cautious one,” Kaiserreich mused, his eyes narrowing with a touch of playful fondness.

“Too cautious. But that only makes you all the more interesting.” He would give Austria his space, his illusions of control, but Kaiserreich knew well that he could shatter those defenses with a single step forward, with a look, a brush of his hand—if he so wished.

But tonight, he was content to watch, his presence like a whisper in the night, unseen yet unmistakably felt. He would remain the shadow in Austria’s mind, the flicker of darkness that haunted him just out of reach. He reveled in the tension, the anticipation, knowing full well that Austria would never quite shake the feeling that he was being observed, that something lingered, waiting for him in the quiet hours of night.

“Sleep well, Austria,” he thought with a smirk as he finally slipped away, his figure merging into the night, leaving nothing but the faint trace of his presence lingering in the room. “After all…we’ll be seeing each other again soon enough.”

Chapter Text

         The darkness pressed in all around him, thick and impenetrable, as if the very air had turned to ink. Austria moved through it blindly, his breaths shallow and quick, each step echoing in the oppressive silence. He didn’t know where he was or how he had come here—only that he needed to keep moving, to find some escape from the weight of the dark that surrounded him.

Somewhere behind him, faint but steady, footsteps followed.

“It’s only a dream,” he told himself, but the thought brought little comfort. The darkness seemed to stretch on forever, each step carrying him deeper into its depths. His heart pounded, his hands shaking as he glanced over his shoulder. There, just a few paces back, he saw a figure moving through the shadows with a quiet, unhurried confidence—a figure he recognized all too well.

Kaiserreich.

The German Empire moved with a grace that defied the bleak surroundings, his steps calm and deliberate, his gaze fixed solely on Austria. There was no hurry in his movements, no urgency in his stride. He didn’t need to rush—he knew that Austria had nowhere to go.

“Going somewhere?” The voice slipped through the silence, deep and resonant, as if the shadows themselves were speaking. Austria’s breath hitched, his heart racing as he turned and ran, the darkness swallowing his footsteps as he fled deeper into the unknown.

But the footsteps behind him didn’t falter. They echoed through the night, steady and inevitable, a sound that seemed to follow him no matter how fast he moved. He could feel Kaiserreich’s presence closing in, the weight of it pressing against his back, the faint, mocking smile that he knew was lurking in the dark.

“Leaving so soon?” Kaiserreich’s voice was closer now, a low murmur that brushed against Austria’s ear like a whisper carried on the wind. He ran faster, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, his legs burning as he pushed forward, his mind racing with panic. But no matter how far he ran, the footsteps never faded, the presence behind him never wavered.

The darkness seemed to shift, closing in on him, the shadows twisting and merging until they formed shapes that loomed out of the black. Trees, branches, the faint outline of the forest he’d walked through that night, stretching out around him like a cage. He stumbled, his foot catching on a root, and fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he looked up.

Kaiserreich was there, standing just a few paces away, his expression calm, his gaze steady. His presence radiated a dark strength, a power that filled the air with a quiet, terrible authority.

He took a single step forward, his eyes never leaving Austria’s as he moved closer, closing the space between them with a patience that was both comforting and chilling.

“Why are you running?” he asked, his tone almost gentle, as if this were a mere game, a mild curiosity. Austria tried to scramble backward, his palms digging into the cold, rough earth as he pushed himself away, but Kaiserreich merely followed, his footsteps slow and deliberate, each one drawing him closer until he loomed over Austria, his shadow stretching out to cover him.

“Stay back,” Austria managed, his voice barely a whisper, the words trembling as he spoke. But Kaiserreich only smiled, his head tilting as he regarded him with a gaze that was both amused and calculating.

“Why would I do that?” he murmured, his tone soft, his gaze piercing. He knelt down, his eyes level with Austria’s, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the silence wrapping around them like a second skin.

Austria tried to look away, his gaze flickering to the shadows, but Kaiserreich reached out, his fingers brushing against Austria’s chin, gently guiding his gaze back to him. The touch was light, almost tender, and Austria’s breath caught, his heart hammering in his chest as he met Kaiserreich’s eyes. There was something in that gaze, something dark and unreadable, a faint glint of something that made Austria’s pulse quicken with both fear and something else—something he couldn’t quite name.

“Where will you run, Austria?” Kaiserreich’s voice was soft, a murmur that slipped through the silence like a caress. “Where could you possibly go?”

Austria tried to pull back, but Kaiserreich’s hand moved to his shoulder, his grip firm yet strangely gentle as he pulled him closer, the shadows deepening around them until it felt as if the night itself had wrapped them in its embrace. There was a heat to Kaiserreich’s gaze, an intensity that made Austria’s skin prickle, his heart pounding as he felt the German’s arm slip around him, drawing him in with a force that left him breathless.

He was trapped, held in the iron grip of those arms, the dark, unyielding strength that surrounded him in a way that felt both terrifying and…comforting. Kaiserreich’s touch was firm, his fingers pressing against Austria’s back, his warmth seeping through the fabric as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over Austria’s ear.

“Why do you tremble, Austria?” The words were a whisper, laced with a mockery that made Austria’s pulse race. He tried to push away, but Kaiserreich’s hold only tightened, his arm wrapped around him with a possessive strength, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them, his chest pressing against Austria’s, his heartbeat a steady, unyielding rhythm.

The air around them was thick, heavy with the scent of night and shadows, the faint rustle of leaves echoing in the silence. Austria could feel the weight of Kaiserreich’s gaze, the faint smirk that lingered on his lips as he held him close, his grip unyielding yet oddly…tender.

“Perhaps…you don’t truly want to escape,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice a low, velvet drawl that sent a shiver down Austria’s spine. “Perhaps you’re exactly where you belong.”

Austria’s breath caught, his heart pounding as he felt the words settle over him, each one sinking into his mind with a quiet, unsettling weight. He tried to look away, to pull back, but Kaiserreich’s grip held firm, his eyes glinting with a dark, knowing amusement as he studied Austria’s face, as if savoring the fear that flickered in his gaze.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the darkness shifted, the world tilting as the dream slipped away, leaving Austria alone in the quiet of his room, his heart racing, his skin prickling with the memory of that touch, that gaze, that faint, mocking whisper that lingered in his mind long after the shadows had faded.

Kaiserreich was gone, but the feeling of his presence remained, a silent, haunting echo that left Austria staring into the darkness, his pulse quickening as he remembered the weight of those arms, the warmth that had surrounded him, the faint whisper that still lingered in his mind, filling the silence with a promise that was both terrifying and…strangely, achingly intimate.

---

Austria woke with a start, his heart racing as he bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. The shadows of the night still clung to him, their grip tight around his mind, leaving traces of dread in every corner of the room. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath his fingertips as he tried to shake the lingering sensations—the weight of those arms, the press of Kaiserreich’s steady gaze, the mocking, taunting whisper.

“It was just a dream,” he reminded himself, but the words rang hollow in the quiet morning air.

The golden light of dawn filtered through the curtains, painting his room in gentle hues, but it felt wrong, like the brightness couldn’t quite reach him. He rubbed a hand over his face, forcing himself to breathe, to calm the racing thoughts that clung to him, echoing with the memory of that presence. Kaiserreich’s touch, his warmth, the cold certainty in his gaze—it all felt too real, too vivid to dismiss. But the longer Austria stared into the sunlight, the less certain he was of anything that had happened in the dark.

With a shiver, he pushed himself out of bed and dressed, willing the chill from his skin as he tried to brush off the memories lingering like cobwebs in his mind. Today was the day of the festival, and his father expected him to make an appearance. “A proper appearance,” he reminded himself, glancing at the mirror as he straightened his coat, ignoring the faint shadows under his eyes that betrayed his lack of sleep.

By the time he joined his father in the hall, he’d forced himself to appear calm, even as the familiar unease lingered at the edges of his thoughts. His father greeted him with a nod, looking as proud and composed as ever.

"Ready, Austria?" The Austrian Empire’s voice was firm, confident—steadying, even. Austria gave a quick nod, ignoring the questions lurking in his father’s gaze. His father hadn’t seen himlast night or heard the quiet restlessness that had haunted him, but there was something in the way he looked at Austria, a hint of curiosity or concern, that made him hesitate.

"Yes, Father. Of course," Austria replied, his voice steadier than he felt. "I’m ready."

They made their way through the streets together, his father speaking in quiet, measured tones about the festival, about the importance of their presence there. Austria listened, half-distracted, nodding in the right places as he took in the sight of the gathering crowds, the bright banners fluttering in the breeze, the cheerful, bustling energy that filled the air. It was a stark contrast to the shadowed memories that clung to him, a welcome distraction from the thoughts that had plagued him all morning.

But as the crowd thickened and the excitement of the festival began to take hold, Austria felt himself relax, even managing a small smile as his father spoke with the town officials, discussing plans and thanking them for their efforts. Austria listened, attentive and polite, his gaze scanning the crowds as he took in the sights and sounds that filled the square.

Eventually, his father’s attention was drawn by some of the elder members of the council, and Austria seized the chance to slip away, eager to explore on his own, away from the eyes of authority and expectation. The energy of the crowd was infectious, the colorful stalls and cheerful voices around him a welcome distraction from the lingering thoughts of last night’s dream.

He moved through the square, taking in the sights with wide eyes, his mind slowly clearing as he allowed himself to focus on the present, on the music and laughter that filled the air. Children ran past him, laughing as they chased one another through the crowd, their faces painted with vibrant colors, their shouts mingling with the cheerful sounds of the festival. He paused by a stall selling trinkets, admiring the delicate craftsmanship, the intricate designs etched into each piece.

As he wandered further, he found himself smiling, the memory of his dream finally beginning to fade, replaced by the warmth and joy of the festival around him. He took in the bright colors, the lively music, the smell of roasted chestnuts and sweet pastries that wafted through the air.

There was a comfort in the simple pleasures, in the normalcy of the day, and for a moment, he allowed himself to believe that everything was as it should be.

But even as he enjoyed the festivities, a faint, nagging sense of unease lingered at the back of his mind, a shadow that refused to fully dissipate.

Austria’s gaze drifted over the colorful stalls, and it wasn’t long before his eyes landed on a small tent tucked away near the edge of the square. Faded fabric in deep shades of crimson and gold draped over the entryway, giving it an air of mystery, and a hand-painted sign beside the door read: “Fortunes Foretold. Discover Your Fate.”

The thought made him pause, and a curious tension settled over him. He hesitated, glancing around as if someone might be watching him, before he finally stepped forward. With every step, a mix of hope and dread churned in his chest—he wanted answers, but he couldn’t say exactly what he hoped to find.

Inside, the air was thick with incense, the heavy scent curling around him as he took in the dim, candle-lit interior. Across a low, round table sat a woman with dark eyes and a knowing smile, her fingers adorned with a dozen rings that glinted in the candlelight.

“Come, sit,” she said softly, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

Austria obliged, taking a seat as he pulled a small coin from his pocket, sliding it across the table. The fortune-teller gave a nod of thanks, her fingers brushing lightly over the coin as she took it, her eyes never leaving his face. She took his hands in her own, her touch gentle yet steady as she closed her eyes, murmuring words he couldn’t quite catch. Her expression shifted, her face falling into a look of intense concentration, and for a moment, Austria held his breath, waiting.

When she opened her eyes, they seemed to glint with something unreadable. She began to speak, her voice low, almost reverent.

“Your future… it is filled with both light and shadows, a delicate balance. You will be tested, but there is happiness waiting for you on the other side. I see love in your path, a deep and abiding connection, unlike any you have known.”

Austria blinked, a faint frown tugging at his lips. Love? The word felt foreign, too soft against the heaviness of what he’d been facing, the strange tension he felt in his chest. He’d come here expecting—hoping, perhaps—that the fortune-teller might glimpse the shadows that had haunted him, the creeping darkness and fear that seemed to follow him lately.

He leaned forward slightly, his voice hushed. “And… is there nothing else? No darkness? No… lurking figure?” His voice trailed off, the words strange and awkward on his tongue.

But the woman only shook her head, her gaze warm, as if she had no hint of the shadows that weighed on him. “No, child. What I see is light. The warmth of companionship, the comfort of care. You are not destined to walk your path alone.”

Austria sat back, his expression faltering as disappointment seeped in. He had hoped she might say something to ease the questions that burned in him, to give him some understanding of the figure that haunted his dreams. But instead, she spoke of love and happiness, of things that felt too distant, too disconnected from the fear that simmered within him.

He forced a polite smile, thanked her, and stepped out of the tent, his mind swirling with confusion. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the square, and as he moved through the crowd once more, the fortune-teller’s words echoed in his mind.

“Love.” The word felt hollow, almost laughable. How could that possibly apply to him? What connection could it have to the strange, unnerving presence he felt—the thing he had dreamed of? He tried to brush off the thought, focusing instead on the festival, on the laughter and warmth that filled the air around him.

Chapter Text

         Austria eventually made his way back to where his father sat at one of the long tables set up inside a grand open building overlooking the square. The interior bustled with voices and laughter, the smell of roasting meats and fresh bread filling the air as guests dined and shared stories. He took a seat across from his father, who was engaged in quiet conversation with one of the town officials, a faint smile playing at his lips as he spoke.

When Austria settled in, his father turned his attention to him, a questioning look in his gaze. “Enjoying the festival?” he asked, taking a sip from his wine. His tone was warm but held a trace of the formality that Austria knew his father couldn’t quite shake, even in these lighter settings.

“Yes,” Austria replied with a small nod, forcing a smile as he lifted a piece of bread from the basket between them. “I wandered through the stalls and saw quite a few things. Trinkets, sweets…” he trailed off, glancing around as he tried to bring some levity into his voice. “I even visited a fortune teller’s tent.”

His father’s brows rose, a hint of amusement in his expression. “And what did she see for you, then? War? Wealth?”

Austria let out a soft laugh, half-hearted as he spread butter on his bread. “Nothing so… grand. She only mentioned love, which seemed a bit dull.” He took a bite, hoping to pass it off lightly, but he caught the brief spark of interest in his father’s eyes.

“Love, hmm?” His father leaned back, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression. “Not so dull if you consider your future, Austria. You’re not so young anymore.”

Austria’s smile faltered, a faint warmth creeping to his cheeks. He took a hasty sip of water, trying to mask his surprise. “Father, she was only spinning tales,” he said, though his words lacked conviction. “Likely tells every young man the same thing.”

But his father chuckled, unperturbed. “Regardless, it’s something you should consider. Love isn’t a fortune-teller’s creation, Austria; it’s essential. And in time, when you’re ready, you’ll need to find someone suitable.” He gave his son a steady, knowing look. “It would please me greatly to see you find someone who understands and respects you. And sooner rather than later.”

Austria shifted, trying to disguise his unease with another sip of water, though his thoughts twisted uncomfortably at his father’s words. The fortune teller’s prophecy felt even stranger now, as if it clashed against the very things he’d come to expect of his life. Love. How could it fit into his world when the most recent thoughts that plagued him had been anything but kind or soft?

His father’s gaze softened. “You know I only want what’s best for you, Austria. With all that you carry, it’s important to have someone who stands beside you.”

Austria nodded, though his gaze drifted past his father, caught by the flickering light as the sun set beyond the square.

Austria shifted his weight, glancing down at his plate as he picked at the food in front of him. His father’s words lingered, drawing out feelings he’d been doing his best to ignore, brushing them aside as easily as he could flick crumbs from his coat. Love had always been such a distant idea, a word left for the stories or idle conversation between friends. It was never something he’d thought might bear any real importance for him.

Still, he knew it wasn’t wise to appear dismissive, not when his father’s voice took on that thoughtful tone.

“There are many who’d be proud to form an alliance with our family,” Austria said carefully, meeting his father’s eyes. “I’m sure I could find someone… fitting.” He hesitated, his mind scanning through a list of acquaintances and allies, many of whom he knew well enough, but none of whom truly captured his attention. “There are certainly… options.”

The Austrian Empire chuckled, his lips curving into a warm but expectant smile. “Yes, I’m aware of these options. The daughter of France has been mentioned before. I believe she’s charming, even shares your interest in music and history.”

Austria’s mouth quirked in a small smile. He did know her, had met her once at a formal event where they’d shared polite conversation over sonatas and archiving techniques. But he could still remember the stiff, uncomfortable quiet that had filled the gaps between their words. France’s daughter was certainly respectable, and talented too, but the thought of spending his life in such carefully measured exchanges left him feeling… cold.

“Yes, she’s very well-suited,” he replied. “But I don’t know if… if we would understand each other.”

“Hmm.” His father nodded, his eyes holding that same calm intensity. “Well, it’s important to consider more than just appearances and alliances, Austria. A union isn’t simply for our benefit, you know. It’s about making something greater together, a partnership that strengthens the both of you.”

Austria sighed softly, casting a glance over the festival as a few distant musicians struck up a lively tune. “But how can I know? We speak of alliances and families and strengthening each other, but how do I know who I’d even want by my side?”

His father regarded him with a rare, softened expression, his brow furrowed as he considered his son’s words. “It’s not always so easy to know,” he admitted after a moment. “But often, it’s a matter of feeling. There’s a certain pull, a respect… perhaps even fondness.” He took a bite, pausing thoughtfully. “But sometimes, we don’t realize it at first. Love has a way of working itself into our lives in unexpected ways.”

“Unexpected,” Austria echoed, the word stirring something uncomfortable in him. The brief warmth that had touched him when he thought of Kaiserreich, the strange, almost dreamlike sense of familiarity… it felt as unsettling as it did curious.

His father gave a small, knowing smile, his eyes glinting with the faintest trace of humor. “I can see you’re troubled. Let me guess—you’re trying to fit all of this into a plan, aren’t you? But love doesn’t follow a map or a structure. Sometimes, Austria, you need to trust your instincts.”

Austria shifted, his gaze falling to the table. His instincts. If he were to trust those, then he’d be following after shadows in the night and confronting an elusive figure that seemed as much a specter as anything real. Yet he knew he couldn’t share that with his father—couldn’t explain that the only thing he felt lately was a restless, creeping anxiety, mixed with a fascination that seemed to defy every rational thought.

“If only it were that simple,” he said finally, trying to muster a lighthearted tone. “Perhaps the fortune teller really was mistaken about me.”

“She wasn’t mistaken,” his father replied, his voice a shade softer, as though sensing Austria’s discomfort. “She saw a future for you, one where you aren’t alone. And that’s something worth pursuing, don’t you think?”

Austria managed a nod, though the weight of his father’s words pressed down on him. “I suppose. It’s just…” He trailed off, looking for the right words, not wanting to seem dismissive.

“Love feels like… an abstract notion. How can I even begin to look for it?”

“By looking beyond what you’ve planned for yourself,” his father replied, his gaze steady.

“Sometimes, the right person is right there in front of us, someone who challenges us or makes us feel alive. Someone who… perhaps unsettles us.”

Austria blinked, surprised by the last sentiment. Unsettles. It felt too close to his experience with Kaiserreich, as if his father had unknowingly grazed too close to the truth.

“Unsettles?” he repeated, swallowing hard as he tried to hide the sudden flutter in his chest.

“Yes,” his father replied with a small, knowing smile. “It’s often the people who challenge us that end up having the greatest impact on our lives. You may find yourself drawn to someone who’s… different. Someone whose presence makes you feel a little out of your depth.”

Austria’s mind flashed with images of Kaiserreich: his piercing gaze, the stern set of his jaw, the way his presence seemed to radiate an intensity that left Austria both captivated and unnerved. The idea that love might be tied to this kind of tension, this strange pull, was one he hadn’t considered.

His father seemed to study him closely, his own food forgotten. “Perhaps you’ve already met someone like that, even if you’re not ready to admit it.”

Austria could feel his cheeks warming as he quickly looked away, the thought of confessing the strange mix of fascination and fear he felt towards Kaiserreich feeling far too vulnerable. “I… I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said quietly, though he sensed his father’s eyes still on him, searching.

His father reached over, placing a steady hand on Austria’s shoulder. “You’re young, but you’ve seen much already. Love may seem abstract to you now, but it won’t stay that way forever.” He squeezed Austria’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid to follow those instincts when you find someone who stirs them, even if it feels… complicated.”

Austria swallowed hard, the subtle advice somehow making the tension inside him even more tangled. He could almost feel the weight of his father’s expectations, the hope that one day he might find someone to share his life with. And though he wanted to brush it off, to assure himself that it was all just talk, the memory of Kaiserreich’s steady gaze and the unsettling dream he’d had refused to fade.

“I’ll try,” he murmured, looking down at his hands.

“Good.” His father’s hand slipped away, but his expression was warm and encouraging. “And remember, love is as much about trust as it is about choice. You’ll know when it’s right. You’ll feel it, even if you can’t explain it.”

Austria forced himself to smile, though his thoughts were far from settled. The idea of finding love, of letting someone close enough to truly understand him, felt both alluring and frightening.

And now, with the memory of Kaiserreich creeping unbidden into his mind, the notion seemed even more bewildering.

As they continued their meal, his father moved the conversation to lighter topics, discussing the town’s growth and plans for the next season’s harvest. Austria listened, nodding in agreement and adding his own thoughts, but his mind remained clouded, the fortune teller’s words and his father’s advice swirling together in an increasingly confusing blend of expectation and possibility.

By the time they finished, the evening air had grown cool, the gentle hum of the festival still lingering outside. Austria stood, stretching as he followed his father to the doors, the glow of lanterns casting long shadows on the street. He cast a final glance at the bustling square, a quiet determination forming somewhere deep inside him.

If love was a path he had to walk, then perhaps he could learn to tread it with purpose. But the figure that haunted his dreams, that unsettled him with its intense and enigmatic presence, wasanother matter entirely. And despite his father’s advice, he wasn’t certain he was ready to face it just yet.

Austria stepped outside into the bustling night, drawn by the vibrant sounds of music and laughter echoing through the streets. Lanterns hung from buildings and trees, their warm glow casting a golden light over the gathered crowd, creating a cozy haven in the cool evening. A lively parade streamed past, dancers twirling in vivid costumes, soldiers marching with polished buttons and sharp salutes, their movements precise and graceful as they pranced through the narrow street.

Austria watched, his gaze following the soldiers as they passed, the rhythm of their steps beating like a heart through the crowd. The soldiers’ confidence, the dancers’ fluidity—it all seemed to move in perfect harmony, a show of unity and pride that should have brought him a sense of calm. But instead, a strange discomfort stirred in him, an unsettled feeling he couldn’t quite place.

The crowd cheered, people calling out to the dancers as they wove between spectators, their colorful costumes fluttering as they spun. The soldiers moved with a crispness that drew admiration, yet Austria’s eyes were beginning to blur, the figures blending together as the music seemed to swell, growing louder and louder.

Needing space, he slipped through the crowd and found a quiet path leading up a hill just beyond the main square. He climbed it slowly, taking in the cool, open air, his footsteps crunching softly over the dewy grass. Finally, he reached the top and looked out over the festival, the sounds muffled from a distance, the lights spread like a warm glow over the square below.

But as he stood there, a strange heaviness settled over him, a pressure tightening in his chest, making his breath come shorter. The knot in his stomach twisted and grew, a dreadful sensation that seemed to crawl up his spine, leaving a chill in its wake. He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a faint dizziness that clouded his vision.

“What is happening to me?” he thought, feeling the world around him spin. His mind seemed to flicker between reality and a strange, oppressive shadow that settled over his thoughts.

A sudden wave of nausea washed over him, and he staggered, reaching out to steady himself. But the hill felt like it was tilting, the ground shifting beneath him. A sense of dread twisted his insides, an instinctive, undeniable feeling of something approaching, something dark and all-encompassing.

The last thing he saw was the warm lights of the festival below, shimmering through his blurred vision, before he felt his knees give out. A strange, cold sensation brushed against him, and then everything went dark.

Chapter Text

         In his dream, Austria found himself once again in the familiar narrow streets, barely lit by the faint glow of old lamps, casting long, eerie shadows over the cobblestone. A cold ache twisted in his stomach, lingering from the real world, and every cautious step he took felt leaden, as though the weight in his gut was holding him back. His mind stirred with fragments of memory—the same streets, the same unsettling quiet—and the unease he thought he'd left behind in Vienna clawed its way back to the surface.

The stillness shattered with a soft, mocking chuckle from the shadows, low and deliberate.

Austria’s head snapped up, his gaze darting around, searching for the source of the sound. He knew it all too well. This was a place he had visited only once before in waking life, but in dreams, it felt like a recurring haunt. And there, just on the edge of the dim street, a figure waited, tall and draped in darkness that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of Austria's heartbeat.

“Back so soon, Austria?” a familiar voice murmured from the shadows, his tone as smooth and taunting as ever. Kaiserreich stepped forward, and the faint glow from the lamps above touched his features, casting an angular shadow over his eyes. “And so early, too. Have I worn you out already?”

Austria felt a shiver trace up his spine as Kaiserreich’s gaze settled on him, cool and assessing, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. The German Empire stood with that same casual, unreadable expression, his head tilted slightly as though considering some private jest. It was unsettling, and yet… captivating.

“I… didn’t mean to be here,” Austria managed, his voice wavering as he took a cautious step backward. “This isn’t real. It can’t be.”

“Oh?” Kaiserreich’s lips quirked into a small, crooked smile, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

“And why do you say that? Aren’t you the one running from shadows?”

Austria’s pulse quickened, his mouth dry. The night seemed to fold in around them, darkening until it felt like they were the only two beings in existence.

“I didn’t want this,” he murmured, feeling as though the weight in his stomach would consume him entirely. “I just want—”

“To escape?” Kaiserreich’s voice was close now, too close. He felt the warm breath ghost against his ear, and his legs jolted into motion, his instincts overriding his reason as he bolted down the empty street.

Kaiserreich’s laughter followed, soft and haunting, echoing through the narrow alleyways as Austria sprinted, his footsteps echoing sharply off the stone. He glanced over his shoulder, but there was no sign of his pursuer. Only the laughter, that deep, steady laughter that filled the air and seemed to grow louder with every step he took. The streets around him twisted and bent, leading him in circles, pulling him deeper into the shadows with every turn.

He stumbled, feeling the cramp in his stomach tighten, his vision blurring as the ache intensified. Yet, a strange energy coursed through him, driven by fear and something else, a pull he couldn’t shake. The shadows themselves seemed to move, curling toward him, encircling him like invisible hands.

“Did you think you could hide, Austria?” Kaiserreich’s voice was closer, dark and taunting.

“There’s no escaping what lies within your own mind.”

Austria’s breath hitched, his legs straining as he tried to push himself forward, but each step grew heavier, his movements sluggish and dreamlike. The street stretched on endlessly, the shadows reaching for him, consuming the light until there was only darkness. And then, suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into a firm embrace.

“See? It’s all so much simpler when you stop running,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice soft but mocking, his breath warm against Austria’s ear. Austria could feel the steady rise and fall of the other’s chest against his back, his heart racing as he struggled against the embrace, but Kaiserreich’s hold was unyielding.

The weight of his arms around him felt both terrifying and… oddly intimate. There was no malice in the touch, only a possessive strength that sent a wave of conflicting emotions rushing through him. Austria’s breath came fast, his chest rising and falling with the intensity of his escape and the chill of Kaiserreich’s nearness.

Kaiserreich’s face was close, his expression unreadable as he regarded Austria, almost as though he were something rare, something to be studied. “You don’t need to keep running, Austria,” he murmured, his voice quiet but laced with the same mocking edge. “After all, we both know I’ll always find you.”

Austria’s heart thundered as he looked into Kaiserreich’s eyes, the shadows around them fading until it was only the two of them, locked in this strange, haunting embrace. And as the darkness closed in, swallowing him whole, Austria could feel himself slipping, falling deeper into the dream, held by the inescapable presence of Kaiserreich, the Nachtkrapp.

Austria’s breath quickened as Kaiserreich’s grip loosened, his fingers slipping down to clasp Austria’s wrist, guiding him wordlessly through the dimly lit alleys. The silence between them felt heavier than any shadow that fell across the cobbled street, as if the very air around them thickened with every step they took. Austria’s pulse drummed in his ears, the ache in his stomach sharp and twisting, but he kept silent, his fear mounting as Kaiserreich led him into a narrow alleyway cloaked in darkness.

They stopped in the heart of it, and Kaiserreich’s hand released him, leaving Austria rooted to the spot as his gaze slowly adjusted to the dimness before him. In the faint glow of the sparse streetlamps, he could make out the still forms posed along the walls and steps of the alley.

Corpses. Dozens of them, their lifeless faces contorted in silent anguish, arranged in a mockery of life.

Each figure seemed to tell a story—faces he recognized from maps, territories marked with pride on the pages of the German’s atlasses. All lands were taken by the Empire. Austria’s stomach twisted painfully, the ache turning into a sharp pang of betrayal as the horrifying realization set in. His eyes fell on Kaiserreich, who observed the macabre display with a calm, almost reflective expression, as though admiring a prized collection. Fear surged through him, icy and consuming. “Am I next?”

Kaiserreich seemed to sense the question lingering in Austria’s thoughts, and with a half-hearted shrug, he turned toward him. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, his tone strangely dismissive. “I have no intention of adding you here.”

Austria’s fists clenched, a spark of defiance flickering in the depths of his fear. “So I’m just supposed to stand here?” His voice came out more unsteady than he intended. “Watch you—revel in this?”

Kaiserreich’s gaze flicked back to him, his eyes sharp as he took in Austria’s reaction, an unreadable expression flashing across his face. But just as Austria’s hand rose to push him away, a sharp, unbearable pain stabbed through his stomach, forcing him to double over. Kaiserreich’s eyes widened, his tone uncharacteristically alarmed. “Austria?”

Austria clutched his stomach, fighting against the tightening pain, his face contorted as he struggled to remain upright. But Kaiserreich’s gaze didn’t waver. He knelt beside Austria, his hand hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to help or watch.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, his voice almost curious. The usual taunt was absent, replaced by something resembling concern.

“Nothing,” Austria managed, his voice taut with pain as he pushed himself to his feet, stubbornly refusing to show weakness. “I don’t need your help.”

Kaiserreich observed him in silence for a moment, his eyes studying him intently, before he sighed. “Fine.” He didn’t step back, though; instead, he moved closer, his hand steady as he pressed it to Austria’s back, keeping him balanced.

Austria’s body slumped slightly against the unexpected support, and he felt Kaiserreich’s grip tighten as the world around him began to blur. The strength in Kaiserreich’s hold was unyielding, his presence strangely grounding as Austria felt the last of his energy fade.A quiet, unspoken question lingered in the air between them, but before Austria could utter another word, Kaiserreich’s gaze softened, and he leaned in close. The last thing Austria saw before darkness claimed him was the intensity of that look, the strange calm that fell over Kaiserreich’s features as he whispered, “Sleep.”

Chapter Text

         The soft, steady knock roused Austria from the depths of a surprisingly peaceful sleep. Blinking against the morning light filtering through the curtains, he looked around, disoriented but comforted by the familiar, warm surroundings of his own bedroom. Had he dreamt the entire night’s events? The chilling alley, Kaiserreich’s mocking gaze, the agonizing pain in his stomach… all of it felt like a shadow slipping from his memory, leaving only a faint sense of unease in its wake.

A servant opened the door carefully, giving a polite nod. “Good morning, sir. You slept later than usual.”

Austria blinked again, rubbing his eyes before glancing at the clock on his wall. Mid-morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so soundly—or so long. Slowly, he rose and dressed, his body feeling oddly refreshed, the dull ache that had plagued him finally gone. He could only marvel at the sense of rest he hadn’t realized he needed so badly.

Moments later, he stepped outside to the garden, where his father, the Austrian Empire, sat under the open morning sky. The table was set with fine silverware glinting in the sunlight, fresh rolls and pastries, and ripe fruits arranged in crystal bowls. The crisp air was alive with birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves, a calm that felt far removed from the dark dreams that haunted his memory.

Taking a seat across from his father, Austria felt the curiosity bubbling within him. He poured himself a cup of tea, watching the steam curl into the morning air, and finally asked, “Father… what happened yesterday?”

The Austrian Empire glanced up from his own cup, his expression thoughtful but calm.

“Happened?” he echoed, setting his cup down and folding his hands together. “You fell asleep in your train car quite early, it seems. I thought the festival had worn you out.”

Austria felt his heartbeat quicken. “That’s all?”

His father’s brow lifted slightly, as if the question itself were out of place. “Of course. You’d been up since dawn with travel, after all. I imagine you needed the rest.”

Austria glanced down at his plate, considering his father’s response. The crisp morning air felt refreshing, a perfect contrast to the odd dread that had settled in him the night before. He took a bite of a delicate pastry, savoring the sweet, buttery taste, yet his mind drifted, searching for any fragments of last night that might explain his feeling of dread.

The garden was alive with color, the roses in full bloom, their rich reds and soft pinks a beautiful contrast against the morning sky. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of nearby trees, casting dappled shadows across the ground. A gentle breeze stirred, carrying the faint scent of flowers and freshly cut grass, filling the air with a sense of peace.

Austria took another sip of tea, savoring the warmth and delicate flavor, his gaze drifting as his mind grappled with the lingering fragments of memory. The discomfort was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar calm he hadn’t felt in days.

The afternoon sun hung lower in the sky as Austria made his way to the stables, his mind set on an escape—if only for a few hours. The world had a brightness that felt almost unreal, and he relished the crisp autumn air that promised a moment’s peace from his own thoughts.

Inside the stable, the air was warm, thick with the familiar scent of hay, leather, and earth. Rows of stalls lined the aisle, each with a head poking out—a chestnut gelding here, a bay mare there—until his eyes settled on a snowy white Arabian. Her coat gleamed like fresh snow under the slanting light, and her delicate ears flicked forward as she regarded him with calm, dark eyes.

"This one," he murmured, almost to himself.

One of the stable hands, who had followed at a polite distance, stepped forward with a small nod. “Shall I get her tacked up for you, sir?”

Austria nodded, his fingers grazing over the Arabian’s soft nose as the servant moved efficiently, gathering saddle and bridle. A few moments later, the horse was tacked and ready, the stable hand holding the reins steady as Austria swung up into the saddle. The leather creaked softly beneath him, and he felt an immediate ease, as if the weight he carried with him could be left on the stable floor.

The Arabian’s hooves echoed gently against the stone as they left the stable, but as he turned her toward a secluded path at the edge of the estate, the soft crunch of earth and leaves muffled the sound. Towering trees lined either side of the path, their branches heavy with the golden leaves of early autumn, filtering the sunlight into warm, shifting patterns on the ground. Austria’s gaze drifted to the shadows between the trees, each one dark and inviting, like a mystery waiting to be solved.

With a gentle squeeze of his legs, he urged the mare forward into a smooth canter. The path narrowed, winding deeper into the woods, and he let the horse find her own pace, her steady rhythm grounding him as they wove through the trees.

The shadows seemed to deepen as Austria ventured further along the narrow path. Towering trees closed in on either side, their branches arching overhead, filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the ground. Leaves, some still clinging to the last green of summer, others touched with fiery orange and golden hues, created a canopy of color above him. The air was thick with the scent of earth, moss, and the faint sweetness of decaying leaves—a blend he found both invigorating and oddly soothing.

Here and there, a scattering of wildflowers poked through the carpet of leaves, their petals swaying gently in the breeze. He passed a moss-covered log, remnants of fungi clinging to its surface, and clusters of ferns unfurling in deep greens. Squirrels darted up the trunks of oaks and birches, pausing to watch him with wide, curious eyes before vanishing into the dense foliage.

Austria’s mind wandered, lulled by the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves. For a brief moment, he let himself relax, allowing his gaze to drift lazily from one tree to another, each detail of the forest taking on a new richness in the quiet solitude. The haunting images from his dreams had faded into the back of his mind, replaced by the tangible beauty of the forest around him.

Then, in the midst of the serene silence, a dark shape caught his eye. At first, it was just a shadow, a blur that seemed no different from the branches and leaves. But as his horse moved forward, he noticed the silhouette perched on a low-hanging branch just off the trail, almost blending into the tree’s dark bark. A raven.

It was large and solitary, its feathers sleek and black as ink, shimmering faintly in the filtered light. Its beak, sharp and curved, pointed in his direction as if the creature were waiting. Watching.

Austria felt a jolt, his heart skipping as he tightened his grip on the reins, instinctively pulling back. The horse halted abruptly, its ears flicking back as it sensed his sudden tension. Austria could feel his pulse thudding, the calm he had felt only moments ago shattered by the sight of the bird.

He stared, frozen, as if under a spell, unable to tear his gaze away from the raven’s unblinking eyes.

The raven tilted its head, studying him with an intensity that made Austria’s skin prickle. Its coal-black eyes glinted, unblinking and calculating, as if it saw through him, peering into corners of his mind he wasn’t even aware existed. For a moment, neither moved—Austria sat utterly still, his fingers clenched around the reins, and the raven stared, silent and ominous. The world around them seemed to hush, the gentle rustling of leaves quieting, the distant chirping of birds fading away. Only the soft crackle of dry leaves under the horse’s hooves broke the silence as the animal shifted restlessly, sensing its rider’s unease.

Austria’s heart hammered in his chest, the calm that had accompanied him on his ride thoroughly dismantled by the mere presence of this creature. It was nothing but a bird, he tried to reason. A harmless, curious raven. Yet the eerie intelligence in its gaze unsettled him beyond measure.

Without warning, the raven spread its wings and launched into the air. It swooped low, barely missing his shoulder as it passed with a rush of air, and he flinched, feeling the whisper of feathers and the chill it left in its wake. The bird disappeared into the shadows of the trees, its dark shape blending seamlessly with the encroaching nightfall.

Realizing he’d been holding his breath, Austria exhaled shakily, urging his horse into a brisk trot back along the path. The shadows stretched and lengthened around him, merging into pools of darkness that seemed to creep ever closer. Glancing nervously at the sky, he noted the sun had dipped perilously close to the horizon, casting an unsettlingly fast blanket of dusk over the forest.

His heart raced as the trees grew dense, their branches thickening above to create an oppressive shroud. Austria felt the weight of his surroundings bearing down on him, the silence growing colder and deeper. Finally, his anxiety overwhelmed him, and he pulled the horse to a stop, dismounting with a shaky breath. He tied the reins to a low-hanging branch, his fingers trembling as he secured the knot. The horse whinnied softly, picking up on his distress, its ears swiveling and nostrils flaring as it, too, sensed the shift in the atmosphere.

The world was dark now, the sun having slipped below the trees, leaving only faint traces of light trickling through the canopy. Austria tried to calm himself, but each tiny noise—a twig snapping, a rustle of leaves—sent a fresh jolt of panic through him. His chest tightened, his breaths coming faster, sharper, his pulse a rapid beat that echoed in his ears. The silence pressed down, each small sound magnified tenfold in his state of fear.

He sank to the ground, pressing his back against a tree trunk as he tried to steady himself. The forest felt vast and endless, stretching out like a labyrinth with him lost at its center. His hands clenched into fists as he struggled to breathe, his thoughts racing, his mind consumed by images of dark shadows and cold, unblinking eyes.

“Having fun yet?”

The voice, laced with a wry amusement, broke the silence like a crack of thunder. Austria flinched, whipping around to find Kaiserreich standing just a few feet away, his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his long coat. The German’s eyes gleamed with a teasing glint, his posture relaxed, a stark contrast to Austria’s trembling form.

Kaiserreich raised a brow, his smile slipping into a faint frown as he took in Austria’s pale, wide-eyed expression. “Really, now?” he murmured, tilting his head as if studying a curious puzzle. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost. That’s not quite the reaction I was aiming for.”

Still struggling to catch his breath, Austria glanced away, his hands curling into fists to keep them from shaking. The German’s presence, usually imposing and unsettling, felt almost grounding in the midst of his fear, but it didn’t soothe the knot of dread twisting inside him.

Kaiserreich sighed, and with a deliberate slowness, he sat down on a nearby rock, crossing his legs and settling into a surprisingly casual position. He leaned back, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze drifting to the darkened forest around them. “Do you know how exhausting my day was?” he began, his tone carrying a faint edge of irritation. “Endless meetings, tedious negotiations, alliances and politics—the usual things you know so well.” He paused, casting a sidelong glance at Austria. “I do believe that those small minds of the world love nothing more than to waste my time.”

Austria blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected turn of the conversation. He hesitated, unsure if he should respond or if he even could, his breath still catching in his throat.

Kaiserreich continued, unfazed by Austria’s silence. “And to make matters worse, some fool had the audacity to complain about trade routes—of all things, as though we haven’t already discussed that ad nauseam.” His eyes sparkled with a faint mischief as he added, “You’d think they’d have more sense than to bore me.”

His words, though spoken with a casual tone, held an underlying sharpness, a reminder of the power he wielded and the authority he expected to command. Yet there was a strange comfort in the familiar arrogance, a rhythm in his ranting that Austria found oddly grounding.

As Kaiserreich continued his casual rant, his words barely registering, Austria felt an overwhelming surge of emotion swell in his chest. The world around him grew blurred, the forest, the fading light, even the presence of the powerful figure seated just across from him. In that moment, all he could feel was the raw, suffocating realization of how close he felt to the edge of his own life. He had been certain, beyond any rational doubt, that Kaiserreich would be the end of him, a shadow always looming in his dreams, haunting his every thought.

A single tear slipped down his cheek, and then another, until he was unable to stop the silent flow that followed. He bit his lip, trying to hold himself together, but the tension, the fear, and the confusion pressed down on him with relentless weight, each moment with the German Empire as his unwilling witness pushing him closer to breaking.

Kaiserreich finally paused, his gaze shifting to Austria. The corner of his mouth twitched as he noticed the younger one’s trembling form and the telltale sheen of tears glistening on his face.

“Austria…” Kaiserreich’s voice was unexpectedly soft, the sharp edge fading as he took in the sight. For a rare moment, his air of smug detachment faltered, and his eyes softened, the faintest trace of concern clouding his usually steely gaze. “Is that— Are you crying?”

Austria ducked his head, hurriedly wiping at his face, but it was too late to hide. He bit back a sob, ashamed to show such weakness in front of him, of all people. “I thought—” He took a shaky breath, words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I thought you would be the end of me. All those nights… the shadows…” His voice was barely a whisper, laced with a mixture of dread and vulnerability. “I was so sure you’d come to… to destroy me.”

Kaiserreich’s expression flickered, a look of stunned disbelief crossing his face before he quickly schooled his features back into neutrality. He leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees as he regarded Austria with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation.

“Oh, Austria,” he said, his voice both amused and slightly exasperated. “If I wanted you gone, you’d know.” He paused, letting that sink in, then continued more gently, almost earnestly, “But that isn’t my intention. You’re… you’re my friend. One of my only friends, if I’m to be honest. I keep coming back because—well, you’re tolerable. Even charming in your own way.”

Austria looked up, disbelief plain on his face. “Friends?” he repeated, the word feeling foreign, almost laughable coming from Kaiserreich’s lips. For so long, he’d regarded the German Empire as a distant, untouchable power, someone to respect and fear but never to feel any sort of closeness toward. Yet here he was, speaking as if they shared some deeper bond.

“Yes, friends,” Kaiserreich affirmed, leaning back with a slight smile, his eyes glinting with that familiar teasing warmth. “Or are you not interested? I could certainly find some other country to bother.”

Austria managed a weak laugh, the absurdity of the moment dawning on him as the last of his tears dried. “No… no, I think I can bear it.” The words slipped out, tentative but laced with a faint, fragile hope.

“There we go.” Kaiserreich’s smile softened, a rare, genuine expression that hinted at something almost affectionate. He reached over, offering Austria a hand to help him to his feet. “Good. Let’s get you back before you worry yourself into another fit.”

As they left the forest together, Austria glanced back one last time at the darkened path, the shadows fading into the distance.

Austria took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself to regain his composure, glancing back to where his horse was still tied to a tree. He moved to untie the reins, his fingers brushing over the soft, warm nose of his horse in a small, comforting gesture. Kaiserreich, silent for once, waited for him to finish, his dark eyes still fixed on Austria with an unreadable expression.

Once mounted, Austria kept the reins loosely in hand as they began making their way back toward the edge of the forest. He found himself stealing glances at Kaiserreich, who walked

beside him with a confident, unhurried stride, his gaze periodically flicking between the path and Austria. The silence that had been thick with tension earlier now held something different, almost comfortable, though Austria still felt the remnants of fear like a lingering shadow.

Kaiserreich broke the silence first, picking up his previous conversation, returning to his usual animated self. He launched into an irritated recounting of recent diplomatic meetings, his complaints laced with hints of humor, his tone almost conspiratorial. Austria, still adjusting to the idea that they could share such mundane conversation, listened intently, nodding along and occasionally murmuring a quiet agreement.

“…and then, if you can believe it, he had the nerve to lecture me about boundaries.” Kaiserreich scoffed, the frustration in his tone softened by a faint smirk. He glanced up, as if gauging Austria’s reaction, then continued, “Honestly, these people must think I have endless patience.”

Austria, emboldened just slightly, managed a small smile. “Patience isn’t quite the word I would use for you,” he murmured, the tiniest hint of amusement slipping into his voice.

Kaiserreich raised a brow, his smirk deepening. “Oh? And what word would you choose, then?”

“Determined, perhaps. Or… relentless,” Austria replied carefully, his voice low but sincere.

“Relentless,” Kaiserreich repeated with a chuckle, shaking his head. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They continued along the path, Austria growing a touch braver, occasionally adding his own thoughts, tentative but genuine. Kaiserreich responded with surprisingly genuine interest, nodding or responding with a thoughtful hum. As the trees began to thin and the dark edge of the forest gave way to open land bathed in moonlight, Austria felt an unexpected lightness in his chest. They’d managed to talk, to almost connect—something he’d never thought possible, much less with someone as imposing as Kaiserreich.

As they reached the clearing just beyond the woods, Austria paused, pulling gently on the reins. The faintest breeze stirred the air, and he turned to say something to Kaiserreich, only to find the space beside him empty. Kaiserreich had vanished, leaving behind only the whisper of his last words and the hint of a smile in Austria’s memory.

Austria let out a quiet sigh, the cool night air filling his lungs as he looked back at the forest, then out at the open road. He shifted in the saddle, and with a gentle nudge, guided his horse back toward home.

Chapter Text

        Austria stepped carefully down from the carriage, his polished boots clicking softly against the cobblestones as he straightened his coat. Around him, Vienna was alive with anticipation, the air humming with voices and the faint strains of distant music. Banners hung from building fronts, their bold colors waving in the breeze, as people filled the square.

Somewhere in the crowd, his father, the Austrian Empire, was preparing to give one of his signature speeches—a show of strength and unity for his people, a reminder of Austria’s unyielding pride.

He tugged at his collar, feeling the pinch of his formal attire. Despite the sharp cut of his coat and the practiced poise he had adopted, he felt far younger and less composed than he looked. He could already see the assembled masses from where he stood, their faces tilted eagerly toward the platform where his father would soon address them.

Taking a deep breath, Austria steeled himself and joined the throngs of people, slipping into the quieter edge of the crowd where he could watch without attracting too much attention. The gentle murmur of conversation around him ebbed and flowed, excitement and respect mingling as citizens awaited his father’s words. It was a rare and proud moment for Austria, witnessing his nation’s unity in real time, a visual reminder of his father’s influence and the power they both were meant to uphold.

Finally, the Austrian Empire took the stage. He was a tall, commanding figure, and the silence that fell over the square was immediate. His father’s presence filled the air with the weight of authority, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as he prepared to speak. Austria felt a surge of pride swell within him, watching the way his father commanded attention, radiating the same power and dignity he’d come to associate with the name Austria itself.

The Austrian Empire’s voice rang out, calm yet powerful, carrying easily over the crowd. He spoke of Austria’s history, its strength, and the promise of a prosperous future. He praised the people, the country’s resilience, and the unity that had seen them through countless trials.

Austria listened, captivated, as his father painted a picture of hope and pride, his words laced with a determination that resonated with everyone present.

But as he watched, Austria found himself distracted, his mind wandering back to recent days, to the unsettling dreams and the strange conversations with Kaiserreich. The German Empire’s unexpected visits, his words laced with a familiarity and purpose that felt both foreign and oddly comforting, lingered at the edge of Austria’s thoughts, tugging at his attention.

As his father’s speech drew to a close, a wave of applause rolled over the crowd, a celebration of words that had stirred old pride and new promises. Austria clapped along, his gaze on the platform where his father raised a hand, nodding in humble acknowledgment. A faint smile crept onto Austria's face as he watched, his earlier unease easing into a quiet admiration. Moments like this reminded him that despite his misgivings and self-doubt, there was honor in what they represented.

With the speech over, Austria found himself in a small gathering near the tables laden with food.

Representatives from nearby regions and a handful of officials surrounded him, congratulating him on his father’s success and engaging in polite conversation. His attention drifted to the assortment of food, and he filled a small plate with delicate pastries, rich meats, and cheeses.

One of the representatives beside him gestured to the food bar. “These gatherings, they’re such a welcome change, aren’t they? A chance for unity beyond mere policies. I think your father truly brings out the best in his people.”

Austria smiled politely, nodding in agreement. “He does. I’ve always admired his ability to unite, even in times of uncertainty. He has a way of… inspiring loyalty, even when things are difficult.”

He took a bite of his food, savoring the familiar flavors, as the representatives continued to exchange words of praise and optimism.

Another representative approached, clapping Austria on the shoulder. “Your father is a pillar, Austria. And you’re bound to follow in those footsteps. Perhaps sooner than you might expect.”

Austria’s cheeks flushed slightly, unsure how to respond to the weight of those words. He shifted the plate in his hand, focusing on the food as he offered a modest reply. “I only hope to live up to the example he’s set.”

But before he could continue, the conversation was violently interrupted by a deafening crack—a gunshot, ringing out like a bolt from nowhere.

Austria’s plate shattered in his hands, food scattering to the ground as fragments of the plate stung his skin. He froze, staring down at the jagged pieces, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Around him, the cheerful murmur of the gathering shifted into gasps and shouts, people ducking and scrambling for cover.

Heart racing, Austria looked up, instinctively scanning the crowd, trying to locate the source of the gunshot. The representatives around him were wide-eyed, some frozen in shock, others already moving back. It was only then that he felt the tremor of genuine fear, realizing that whoever had fired that shot had been close—close enough to almost kill him.

In an instant, the air around Austria was a flurry of movement. Guards and security personnel surged forward, surrounding him in a protective barrier. Strong hands gripped his shoulders, steering him away from the shattered remains of his plate, and he felt himself guided swiftly through the crowd, away from the open square. His ears still rang with the echo of the gunshot, his pulse pounding as adrenaline coursed through him.

“Out of the way!” one guard barked, his voice firm and clear as they moved through a narrow corridor between buildings, away from curious eyes. Austria felt a hand press gently on his back, urging him forward, though he moved on autopilot, his gaze fixated on the lingering sting of the shallow cuts on his palms and arms.

They reached a private room, tucked away from the main event, and a medic was waiting to clean and bandage his hands. The antiseptic burned, sharp and stinging, but he barely registered it over the shock numbing his senses. He looked down at his hands, bandages already covering the cuts as the medic worked swiftly, murmuring soft reassurances.

The door opened, and Austria looked up to see his father, the Austrian Empire, striding into the room, his expression tight with worry. His usual composure was fraying at the edges, and he crossed the room in two strides, gripping Austria’s shoulder in a protective, fatherly hold.

“Austria,” he murmured, a rare softness to his voice. “Are you alright? I came as soon as I heard.”

Austria nodded, but he could feel the lingering tremor in his hands, the weight of fear pressing against his chest. His father’s gaze swept over him, taking in the bandages, the barely concealed shock in his eyes.

“What happened?” his father pressed, his eyes narrowed with a fierce, protective intensity. “Tell me everything you can remember.”

Swallowing hard, Austria forced himself to speak. “I… I was at the food table, talking to the representatives. Just as I was finishing, I heard a shot. It shattered the plate—I didn’t even see where it came from.” He looked away, embarrassment and frustration simmering beneath the surface. “I didn’t… I couldn’t do anything.”

His father’s hand remained firm on his shoulder. “It’s alright. You were caught off guard. The fact that you’re safe is what matters.”

Austria tried to find comfort in those words, but a shiver still ran down his spine, the memory of that piercing crack and the scattered pieces of porcelain still vivid. He nodded slowly, looking up at his father. “Do you… have any idea who might be responsible?”

The Austrian Empire’s gaze darkened, his jaw set in a line of determination. “We’ll find out. This attack was more than reckless—it was an insult. But leave that to us. You’re safe now.”

Austria nodded, feeling the weight of his father’s words settling around him like a shield. It was both a relief and a reminder of the world he belonged to, the one that offered no true sanctuary from danger. His father’s grip loosened slightly, his expression softening just enough to reassure him.

“Rest now. You’ll be surrounded by those who can protect you,” his father assured him. And with one last glance, he nodded to the guards at the door, signaling the continued watch over his son.

Chapter Text

         Austria lay in his bed, staring up at the dim, familiar pattern of the ceiling above him. The events of the day lingered, heavy and sharp, casting a shadow over the usual comfort of his room.

Even now, hours after the shot had shattered his plate, he could still feel the prickle of fear beneath his skin. Though his father’s reassurances had eased his nerves, Austria’s hands trembled slightly when he thought back to that moment, the shock of porcelain shards flying everywhere, the raw edge of fear seizing him in a grip he hadn’t been able to shake.

But even through the anxiety, something else simmered just beneath the surface. There was a strange anticipation there, a restless excitement he couldn’t ignore. He pressed a hand over his chest, feeling the beat of his heart begin to slow, his breaths deepening as he closed his eyes. Maybe tonight, he thought, he would see Kaiserreich again.

A small, cautious smile crept over his face at the thought. It was odd to feel so hopeful about seeing the German Empire—Kaiserreich could be just as unnerving as he was reassuring, a combination that left Austria’s thoughts in disarray. Still, Kaiserreich had become a steady figure in his dreams, familiar in a way very few others were. As one of his only true friends,

Kaiserreich’s presence was something he’d come to rely on, even when the German’s teasing could be cutting, his manner abrupt. He was a strange friend, a constant but unpredictable presence that somehow grounded Austria in ways he could hardly explain.

Perhaps it was the comfort of routine. Kaiserreich had been appearing in his dreams for so long now that Austria wasn’t sure he’d know what to do without him. There was a predictability in their encounters—at least to some degree—and a certainty that, no matter what happened,

Kaiserreich would be there. And in this moment, that was something he desperately needed. It felt strange to crave that presence as he did, yet after the day he’d had, Austria wanted nothing more than the familiarity Kaiserreich brought.

And it wasn’t just the reliability. Kaiserreich was strong, confident in ways that Austria sometimes envied. His words, sharp though they could be, often held an underlying understanding that Austria found himself drawn to. The German Empire was proud, but it was a pride born from experience, a strength that came with a quiet determination Austria admired. Kaiserreich, for all his blunt edges, was loyal in his own way, and Austria took comfort in that.

While he had friends within the empire and advisors who surrounded him, they rarely saw him in the same light that Kaiserreich did.

Settling deeper into his pillows, Austria felt his heart skip in a small thrill of anticipation. Yes, the day had been difficult, and the questions of who had fired that shot still weighed on him, but perhaps sleep would bring relief. And maybe, if he were fortunate, Kaiserreich would be there, the familiar presence pulling him from this lingering fear. His fingers played idly with the edge of the blanket as he considered what Kaiserreich might say tonight, what cryptic words or jesting remarks would color their next conversation.

The heavy fog of sleep finally took him, and as his breathing slowed, the world around him began to shift and blur. The softness of his bed faded away, replaced by the quiet chill of cobblestone beneath his feet and the faint shimmer of street lamps flickering against a misty darkness. Austria blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and his heart lifted in cautious expectation. He was here, back in the same cold, deserted streets where he had first met Kaiserreich. The buildings loomed tall and silent around him, casting long, inky shadows that stretched across the empty road.

He glanced around, half-expecting Kaiserreich to appear from one of those shadows. But as the seconds passed with no sign of him, Austria felt a flicker of disappointment. He started forward, his footsteps echoing faintly as he walked, the cold pressing around him. The streets were silent, but that familiar sense of anticipation filled the air, as if something were just out of sight, watching and waiting. He hadn’t gone far when he heard it—a familiar low chuckle that sent a shiver through him.

Before he could fully turn, strong arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into a firm, unyielding embrace.

"Austria," came the voice, amused and somehow pleased, its tone dripping with both warmth and mischief. “You actually showed up.”

Austria’s breath hitched as he turned his head, catching a glimpse of Kaiserreich’s face in the dim light. His expression was alive with satisfaction, a glint in his eyes as he studied Austria.

The hug was intense, almost fierce, and Austria could feel the powerful hold Kaiserreich had on him, the undeniable strength that made his heart race.

“Kaiserreich,” Austria managed, his own voice softer, wavering against the German’s unshakeable presence. He couldn’t help but return a small smile, though his heart still beat wildly in his chest, caught off-guard by the abrupt embrace. “You didn’t… expect me?”

Kaiserreich let out a low laugh, the sound rumbling against Austria’s shoulder as he gave a firm, final squeeze before releasing him. He didn’t step back completely, his presence still close, almost overwhelming.

“Oh, I did," he replied smoothly, crossing his arms with a sly smile. "But I wasn’t sure you’d have the nerve to come back after last time.”

Austria swallowed, suddenly keenly aware of his racing heartbeat, the strange thrill and unease mingled together at the intensity of Kaiserreich’s presence. Despite the familiar tease, there was something different about his friend tonight—something sharper, even more intense than usual. But there was warmth, too, a genuine glimmer in the German’s eyes that softened the edge just enough to let Austria relax, if only a little.

“Well, here I am,” Austria said, meeting his gaze with a quiet defiance, trying to ignore the blush creeping into his cheeks. Kaiserreich’s eyes brightened in approval, and Austria felt a quiet satisfaction knowing he’d somehow pleased him.

“Good,” Kaiserreich replied, his grin softening to something more genuine as he clapped a hand on Austria’s shoulder. “Because I have plans for us tonight.”

Kaiserreich’s grip on Austria’s shoulder tightened briefly, his fingers warm even in the cool, dream-chilled air. He looked Austria over with a calculating gaze that sent another shiver through him, though Austria couldn’t quite tell if it was from fear or excitement.

“Plans?” Austria echoed, his voice steady but curious. “What kind of plans?”

Kaiserreich’s smirk widened, his expression a mixture of amusement and mystery. “Nothing dangerous… unless you make it that way,” he replied smoothly, his tone dipping into that mocking tease Austria had come to expect. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked down the empty street. “Come with me.”

Before Austria could reply, Kaiserreich set off down the road, his stride unhurried but purposeful, his figure casting a long shadow beneath the dim street lamps. Austria hesitated for only a moment before following, his footsteps quickening to match his friend’s pace. The buildings around them seemed to shift and grow darker, the shadows deepening with each step, and a strange sense of anticipation filled Austria’s chest.

“What are we doing out here?” Austria asked, his voice echoing softly in the silence. Kaiserreich glanced at him, that glint of mystery still in his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you know just how much potential you really have,” he said cryptically, his tone more serious now.

“You carry so much of your father’s empire, and yet…” He trailed off, a small, almost wistful smile playing on his lips. “And yet, here you are, running from shadows.”

Austria’s steps faltered, his stomach twisting at the remark. Kaiserreich’s words cut deep, but there was an unmistakable fondness there, a strange kind of challenge that both stung and intrigued him.

“I’m not running,” Austria replied quietly, feeling a sudden urge to prove himself. “I—”

“You’re not?” Kaiserreich cut in, a single eyebrow raised. He came to a halt, turning to face Austria fully. “Then let’s see. Here,” he gestured down a narrow, dark alleyway, barely illuminated by the faint glow of the street lamps.

Austria looked at him warily, then down the shadowed path. The walls seemed to close in, the darkness thick and nearly impenetrable, the air carrying a coldness that seemed to seep into his bones. But Kaiserreich’s gaze was steady, expectant, his stance calm and resolute, as if daring Austria to prove his point.

After a beat, Austria nodded, swallowing hard as he took the first step. The alley was quiet save for their footsteps, and he felt Kaiserreich’s presence close behind him, a steady force that kept him moving forward. His breath quickened as they reached a dead end, an eerie silence settling around them, broken only by the soft rustle of something nearby.

“Now, Austria…” Kaiserreich’s voice was soft, coaxing, as he took a step closer, his voice low and almost gentle in his ear. “You aren’t really afraid, are you?”

Austria clenched his fists, willing himself to stay calm. “I’m not afraid,” he replied, his voice trembling only slightly as he met Kaiserreich’s gaze.

A small smile tugged at Kaiserreich’s lips as he watched Austria with an unreadable expression.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because there’s something I want you to see.”

He lifted his hand, gesturing to the shadows around them. As if responding to his command, the darkness began to shift and take form, molding itself into twisted shapes that flickered like the edges of a nightmare. Figures began to appear in the shadows—pale, lifeless faces, bodies slumped and twisted as if frozen in time. They lined the alley, posed like silent witnesses, each one seemingly caught in a final, tragic moment.

A shudder ran through Austria as he took in the sight, his mind racing to make sense of the eerie tableau before him. These were no ordinary phantoms; they looked real, too real. Each figure bore the subtle marks of different lands, hints of cultures and histories woven into the folds of their clothes and the set of their faces. They were like ghosts of Kaiserreich’s past—conquered lands, lost empires, each one a reminder of his reach and influence.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Kaiserreich’s voice was calm, almost proud, as he watched Austria’s reaction. “These are my conquests, my… trophies, you could say. All part of the world I’ve claimed, piece by piece.”

Austria took a shaky step back, his heart pounding as he realized the weight of what he was seeing. He glanced at Kaiserreich, a mix of fear and betrayal flashing in his eyes. “And… am I meant to be one of them?” he managed, his voice barely a whisper.

Kaiserreich’s expression softened slightly, his gaze never leaving Austria’s face. For a brief moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes, and he reached out, resting a hand on

Austria’s shoulder. “No,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You’re not a trophy, Austria. Not to me.”

Austria looked away, the lingering fear twisting into something else, a feeling he couldn’t quite name. He wanted to trust Kaiserreich, to believe the sincerity in his voice, but the images around them were too vivid, too haunting.

Kaiserreich seemed to sense his unease, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Austria,” he said, his voice gentler now, though a hint of frustration lingered. “Do you really think I would bring you here just to make you afraid?”

Austria hesitated, then shook his head, unsure of what to say. His heart still pounded, his stomach twisting with the conflicting emotions swirling inside him.

“I’m showing you this,” Kaiserreich continued, his voice quiet but resolute, “because I want you to understand something. This… strength—it’s yours, too. You have a future that could be just as powerful, but you keep looking away from it.” He paused, his gaze searching Austria’s face, as if waiting for the words to sink in.

Austria opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden, sharp pain shot through his stomach, forcing him to double over with a gasp. The ache was raw and intense, like a wound reopening, and he felt himself shudder as he struggled to catch his breath.

Kaiserreich’s face shifted from amusement to concern in an instant. He moved closer, his hand resting lightly on Austria’s back. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone unusually soft, his eyes wide with genuine worry. “Austria, are you hurt?”

Austria gritted his teeth, trying to brush it off as he straightened, but the pain was unrelenting, and he found himself clutching his stomach, breathing hard. “It’s… nothing,” he managed, though his voice was strained, his pride keeping him from admitting the truth.

Kaiserreich watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he sighed, as though resigning himself to Austria’s stubbornness. Still, he kept a steadying hand on Austria’s shoulder, his gaze softening as he muttered, “Stubborn as ever.”

Austria’s vision began to blur as the pain intensified, his surroundings growing dim. He barely felt Kaiserreich’s hand move to the back of his neck, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he whispered, “I told you, you’re not a trophy, Austria. Remember that.”

And before Austria could respond, the world around him slipped away into darkness. Austria’s gaze flickered, his expression guarded as Kaiserreich’s words took root, weaving themselves into the tangled mix of emotions in his chest. Kaiserreich’s steady, unwavering confidence in him was hard to ignore, yet the shadowed figures lining the alleyway remained an ominous reminder of the German’s power—a strength he wielded with complete ease. Kaiserreich’s gaze softened, watching him closely. “You could be more than you are, Austria.

More than the legacy of your father’s empire,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You’ve been content to follow, to remain… predictable.” A faint smile tugged at his lips, one that held the glimmer of an unspoken challenge. “But I think you’re capable of much more.”

Austria swallowed, resisting the urge to step back. Kaiserreich’s words were potent, his calm certainty unsettling. Yet in that moment, Austria felt a pang of something that surprised him—not fear, but a strange longing, as if he could feel the possibility of what Kaiserreich saw within him, though it was still clouded by his own hesitations.

“But… I’m not like you,” Austria replied quietly, his voice barely audible in the dark. “I’m not… meant for this kind of power. I don’t seek to rule over others.” He glanced away, his gaze falling on the still, silent figures lining the alley. “I can’t be like you.”

Kaiserreich let out a soft, low chuckle, one that sent a shiver through Austria. “Who said you needed to be like me?” he replied, his tone a touch wry. “You’re missing the point. You don’t have to follow my path to be strong; strength is not measured by conquest alone.” He took a step closer, his voice low but insistent. “It’s about presence, Austria. Purpose.”

There was a pause as the two of them stood in the shadowed alley, the air thick with tension and something else—something undefinable yet magnetic. Kaiserreich’s words echoed in Austria’s mind, each one hitting with unexpected weight. It was as if Kaiserreich were extending an invitation to something larger, something Austria had yet to understand fully.

“Why… are you telling me all this?” Austria asked, finally looking up to meet Kaiserreich’s eyes.

“What do you want from me?”

Kaiserreich’s smirk softened into something almost affectionate, though a faint edge of mystery remained. “Maybe I just want to see what you’re capable of,” he replied, his tone laced with quiet intrigue. “Or maybe…” He trailed off, his gaze holding Austria’s for a long moment. “Maybe I enjoy having you here.”

Austria’s breath caught at that, his heart skipping a beat as the implications settled over him. Kaiserreich, for all his power and strength, was choosing to linger here, choosing to share these secrets—his past, his victories, even his vulnerabilities. The realization was startling, yet it held a strange comfort.

Kaiserreich reached out, resting a hand on Austria’s shoulder. The weight of it was steadying, grounding him amidst the swirl of emotions inside him. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss your worth, Austria,” he said quietly. “There’s more to you than you realize. And, if you’re willing to accept it… perhaps you’ll find you’re stronger than you think.”

Austria nodded slowly, a tentative spark of determination flickering in his eyes. For the first time, he felt a glimmer of belief in Kaiserreich’s words, a possibility he hadn’t dared to entertain before.

Kaiserreich’s smirk returned, though his gaze remained warm, almost proud. He squeezed Austria’s shoulder lightly, the gesture brief but filled with a silent camaraderie that spoke volumes.

“Now,” Kaiserreich said, stepping back with a casual shrug. “Why don’t we get out of this alley? It’s hardly the place for such a conversation.”

Austria let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he nodded. “Agreed.”

The two of them turned, leaving the shadowed figures and the haunted alley behind as they stepped back into the quiet streets. The air was lighter now, the oppressive darkness giving way to a faint glow on the horizon, as if dawn were on the verge of breaking. Austria glanced over atKaiserreich, the familiar feeling of fear ebbing away, replaced by a cautious sense of camaraderie.

And as they walked together, side by side, Austria couldn’t shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, he was capable of more than he’d ever believed.

Chapter Text

         Austria’s room felt stifling despite the spaciousness, the high ceiling adorned with carved moldings and the soft glow of a chandelier above. He paced back and forth across the carpet, the intricate patterns beneath his feet doing little to distract him from the thoughts swirling in his head. His heart felt lighter than it had in weeks, but his stomach fluttered in a way that unsettled him.

Every so often, his gaze flickered toward the window, the sheer curtains barely holding back the deep shadows outside. The moon hung low, its silver light casting faint beams across the room, but the darkness seemed to encroach from every corner, curling around the edges of the light like ink spreading through water. A small, irrepressible smile crept onto Austria’s lips each time his eyes caught the deepening shadows.

Finally, unable to ignore the pull any longer, Austria stepped to the window. The latch felt cool against his fingers as he slid it open, the soft creak of the frame breaking the heavy silence. A chill breeze swept in, carrying with it the faint scent of wet leaves and damp earth. He leaned against the sill, letting the night air wash over him, a strange sense of anticipation prickling at the back of his neck.

“Enjoying the view, Austria?”

The low, teasing voice startled him, but it also sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. He turned quickly, his eyes immediately locking onto Kaiserreich, who leaned casually against the side of the window frame. His broad shoulders and tall figure seemed to absorb the moonlight, casting an almost otherworldly glow around him. Kaiserreich’s expression was playful but warm, his usual stoicism softened as his sharp eyes studied Austria. “I’m flattered you’d open the window just for me,” he added with a faint smirk.

Austria felt his cheeks heat, but he quickly shook his head, laughing softly. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he’d intended.

Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “You sound disappointed,” he said, though his tone lacked its usual edge. “I told you I’d keep an eye on you, didn’t I? After what happened at the speech, I couldn’t very well leave you to brood alone.”

At the mention of the assassination attempt, Austria hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. The broken plate, the gunshot, the rush of guards—it all played out in his mind again, a vivid and jarring memory. But before the weight of it could settle, he glanced up at Kaiserreich, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“I’m fine,” Austria said, his voice firmer than before. “As long as you’re around, I think I will be.”

Kaiserreich’s smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. He straightened, stepping closer to the window and resting a hand lightly on the sill. “You’re quick to put faith insomeone who thrives in shadows,” he remarked, his tone half-teasing but laced with genuine curiosity. Austria tilted his head, meeting Kaiserreich’s gaze with a steadiness that surprised even himself.

“Maybe,” he replied. “But you’ve been there every time I’ve needed someone. Even if you appear uninvited.”

Kaiserreich chuckled, a deep and resonant sound that seemed to fill the room. “You say that as if you don’t secretly enjoy it,” he said, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Austria didn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting past Kaiserreich to the world beyond the window. The darkened gardens stretched into the distance, the hedges and trees rendered shadowy silhouettes against the pale glow of the moon. For a moment, everything felt still, as if the night itself were holding its breath.

“I do,” Austria finally admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His cheeks burned again, but he kept his gaze steady, refusing to shy away. “I don’t know why… but I do.”

Kaiserreich’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, his features relaxing in a way that made him look unexpectedly kind. He reached out, placing a hand on Austria’s shoulder—a gesture that was equal parts comforting and grounding.

“Good,” Kaiserreich said simply, his voice low but steady. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Austria swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The weight of Kaiserreich’s words settled over him, both reassuring and unsettling. For all the uncertainty and fear that had plagued him in recent weeks, there was something undeniably calming about Kaiserreich’s presence—a sense of stability that Austria hadn’t realized he craved.

“Now,” Kaiserreich said, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest, “Tell me the truth. How are you really feeling after today?”

Austria hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment. “Shaken,” he admitted. “But… it’s strange. I’m more afraid of what could’ve happened than what actually did. The gunshot, the glass—it all felt like a dream. Unreal.”

Kaiserreich nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious. “Fear has a way of distorting reality,” he said. “But it also sharpens your instincts. You handled yourself well, considering the circumstances.”

Austria gave a small, rueful laugh. “I didn’t do anything,” he said. “I froze. If it weren’t for the guards—”

“You’re alive,” Kaiserreich interrupted firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And that’s what matters. Don’t diminish that.”

The conviction in Kaiserreich’s voice sent a jolt through Austria, his chest tightening as he nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply met Kaiserreich’s gaze, the weight of his gratitude evident in his eyes.

For a moment, the two of them stood in silence, the only sound the faint rustling of the night breeze. Then, with a soft sigh, Kaiserreich stepped back, his usual smirk returning.

“Get some rest, Austria,” he said, his tone lighter now. “I have a feeling tomorrow will bring its own challenges.”

Austria nodded, watching as Kaiserreich turned and melted into the shadows beyond the window. The night seemed quieter without him, the stillness settling over the room like a heavy blanket.

Closing the window, Austria leaned against the sill, his heart still racing. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for now, he let himself savor the strange and inexplicable comfort Kaiserreich’s presence brought him.

Austria lingered by the window even after Kaiserreich had disappeared into the night, his silhouette now a fading memory in the deepening shadows. The room felt colder without him, yet his lingering presence seemed to wrap around Austria like a phantom embrace. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool glass, and allowed his thoughts to wander.

It had always been like this since their first encounter—Kaiserreich occupying his mind with relentless persistence. It wasn’t just the German’s sharp tongue, the way he balanced jest and intensity so seamlessly. Nor was it only his commanding presence, the weight of his every step and word. It was the way Kaiserreich had a knack for seeing through him, for reaching past the polite facade Austria often wore and pulling out something raw and real.

A small, private smile tugged at Austria’s lips as he replayed their conversation, the way Kaiserreich’s smirk softened when he spoke, the heat in his voice when he cared enough to challenge Austria’s perspective. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, a force that drew Austria in despite his better judgment. It wasn’t just admiration, though that was certainly part of it. It was something deeper, something Austria was reluctant to name.

He paced the room again, restless. His footsteps fell softly on the plush carpet, but his thoughts thundered. His mind began crafting scenarios—imagining how things might be if Kaiserreich weren’t just a fleeting shadow in his life. If he could hold onto the German’s presence beyond dreams and nighttime encounters. The thought was intoxicating, his chest tightening with an emotion he couldn’t fully place.

But his reverie was shattered by a sudden sharp pain in his stomach. Austria froze mid-step, clutching his abdomen as a cramp twisted through him. The ache was so sudden and intense that his breath hitched, and he staggered toward the edge of the bed, lowering himself carefully. He pressed his hand against his stomach, willing the pain to subside, but it only seemed to deepen, a gnawing ache that sent beads of sweat to his brow.

“Not now,” he murmured to himself, his voice trembling. He gritted his teeth, attempting to adjust his position to alleviate the pain, but it was no use. The cramps persisted, waves of discomfort rippling through him until he could no longer bear sitting upright. He swung his legs onto the bed and lay back, his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection.

The cool sheets offered little relief, and he shut his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. The pain was relentless, and though he tried to distract himself with thoughts of Kaiserreich, even those began to fade into the haze of discomfort.

Moments passed, or perhaps longer—it was hard to tell. But then, another sensation began to creep up on him, one that made his stomach lurch violently. Panic gripped him as he realized what was coming. With a groan, Austria forced himself to sit up, his vision swimming as he stumbled toward the adjoining bathroom. His legs felt weak beneath him, his movements unsteady as he reached the toilet just in time.

The nausea hit like a wave, and he clutched the porcelain rim as his body gave in. The sound of retching filled the small space, sharp and jarring in the silence of the night. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as his stomach heaved, expelling whatever small comfort he’d managed to find earlier.

When it was over, he slumped back against the wall, his body trembling with exhaustion. The ache in his stomach had dulled but still lingered, a low thrum of discomfort that refused to leave entirely. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he tried to collect himself.

Why now? Why tonight, of all nights? He couldn’t help but wonder if the pain was connected to the events of the day—or worse, if it had something to do with the shadowy connection he shared with Kaiserreich. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but he shook his head, refusing to let fear take root.

After rinsing his mouth and splashing cool water on his face, Austria made his way back to the bedroom. The room seemed even darker now, the shadows deeper and more foreboding. He crawled under the covers, pulling them tightly around himself, and stared up at the ceiling.

Austria lay on his bed, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. The tonic had taken the edge off his stomach pain, but his mind still churned with questions and lingering fears. Sleep had evaded him the night before, leaving him drained, but now, as he let his head sink into the pillow, a singular thought guided him: Kaiserreich.

The German would be there, wouldn’t he? He always seemed to find his way into Austria’s dreams, his presence as certain as the creeping shadows of night. Despite everything—his unease, the lingering pain, the chaos of the previous day—Austria craved the comfort of his enigmatic companion. Kaiserreich was, in his own way, reliable. The soft rhythm of his breathing slowed, and the world around him began to dissolve.

When Austria opened his eyes, he was back on those familiar streets. The dimly lit alleys stretched endlessly, their cobblestones slick with the glimmer of unseen moisture. The air was heavy and cold, wrapping around him like a damp cloak. Shadows crept at the edges of his vision, twisting and curling as if alive.

He started walking. The rhythmic sound of his boots on the stone echoed in the silence, accompanied only by the occasional distant drip of water.

“Kaiserreich?” he called, his voice cutting through the stillness. It felt strange to hear himself speak; the sound didn’t seem to carry far, swallowed up by the oppressive void surrounding him. There was no answer.

Austria continued, each step carrying him deeper into the labyrinth of his dream. The streets blurred together, their identical facades disorienting. Every corner he turned brought him to another identical alley, another endless stretch of shadowed road. His chest tightened. Where is he?

“Kaiserreich!” he called again, louder this time. The name reverberated off the narrow walls, only to fade into nothing.

Austria’s steps quickened, a faint edge of panic creeping into his movements. His surroundings seemed to shift and ripple, the once-familiar streets now growing darker, the air colder. The cobblestones beneath his feet felt uneven, as if the ground itself were beginning to give way. He stopped abruptly, his breathing ragged. Looking around, he realized he was utterly and completely lost. The buildings that had once enclosed him were gone, replaced by an endless void of swirling gray and black. He turned in a slow circle, his pulse pounding in his ears.

The void was silent, oppressive. It pressed down on him, suffocating in its emptiness. "Please…” Austria whispered, his voice trembling. “Where are you?”

The void shifted, and for a moment, he thought he saw something—a flicker of movement in the distance, a shadow within shadows. He strained his eyes, willing the shape to take form, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, the cold seeping through his clothes. The emptiness felt alive now, pulsing and writhing around him, as though it were feeding on his fear. “Austria!” A familiar voice cut through the void like a sharp blade, commanding and clear.

Austria’s head snapped up, and there he was: Kaiserreich.

The German stood a few steps away, his sharp eyes scanning the scene with an expression of concern that Austria rarely saw. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by a tight line as he strode forward, his polished boots somehow steady on the shifting ground.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you?” Kaiserreich said, his tone laced with exasperation, though the underlying worry was unmistakable. “What were you doing, wandering off like that? I thought you knew better.”

“I-I…” Austria stammered, his voice weak. “I was looking for you.”

Kaiserreich froze, his brows knitting together as he crouched to Austria’s level. “Looking for me?” he echoed, his voice softer now. “Do you have any idea where you ended up? This isn’t a street, Austria—it’s the void. A place where dreams fall apart. If I hadn’t found you, you might have been trapped.”

Austria swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn’t find the words to explain, to justify his actions. The void’s oppressive weight still clung to him, but Kaiserreich’s presence was like a beacon, cutting through the darkness.

Kaiserreich sighed, running a gloved hand through his dark hair. “I should be angry,” he muttered, his tone tinged with frustration. “But honestly? I’m just glad you’re okay.” He reached out, grasping Austria’s arm and pulling him to his feet. His grip was firm, steadying Austria against the residual dizziness.

“Next time,” Kaiserreich said, his voice stern but not unkind, “just stay put. I’ll always find you, Austria. You don’t need to go searching for me.”

Austria nodded, his head bowing slightly in shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Kaiserreich interrupted, his tone softening. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

The German’s presence seemed to banish the void, the swirling shadows receding with every step they took. The familiar cobblestone streets began to form around them once more, solid and unchanging.

Kaiserreich walked beside him, his usual teasing smirk finally returning as the tension eased. “You really are trouble, aren’t you?” he quipped, glancing at Austria out of the corner of his eye. “Always keeping me on my toes.”

Austria managed a faint smile, his chest loosening as the oppressive weight of the void faded.

Despite everything, Kaiserreich had come for him. And as much as Austria tried to resist the thought, it brought a strange sense of comfort.

Kaiserreich guided Austria through the cobblestone streets, the dim light casting long shadows across their path. The weight of the void still lingered in Austria’s chest, though it was dulled by the steady presence of the German beside him. As they walked, silence hung between them—tense, but not uncomfortable. It was Kaiserreich who eventually broke it.

“You’re lucky I came when I did,” he said, his voice low but carrying a faint edge of amusement.

“Another few minutes, and you might’ve been stuck wandering that void for eternity.”

Austria glanced at him, his brow furrowing. “How did you find me?” he asked hesitantly. “I thought… I thought dreams weren’t real. How could you sense me there?”

Kaiserreich’s smirk faltered slightly, his gaze shifting to the ground ahead of them. He walked a few paces in silence, as though deliberating how much to say. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost uncharacteristically so.

“It’s complicated,” he admitted. “But if I’m being honest, it’s not entirely… me who found you.”

Austria frowned, tilting his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Kaiserreich stopped walking, turning to face him fully. His expression was unusually serious, the usual glint of humor in his eyes replaced by something more somber. “There’s something about me, Austria,” he began, his tone measured. “Something I don’t share with most people. You’ve seen hints of it already, but I don’t think you’ve pieced it all together.”

Austria felt his stomach knot, a sense of unease creeping up his spine. “What are you talking about?” he asked cautiously.

Kaiserreich crossed his arms, his gaze flickering to the shadows that danced on the nearby walls. “I’m not… whole,” he said after a moment. “There’s more to me than the Kaiserreich you see here. Different sides. Different fragments.” Austria blinked, the words sinking in slowly. “You mean…?”

Kaiserreich nodded. “Dissociative identity disorder,” he explained, his tone even but edged with a faint tension. “It’s not something I talk about—ever. But it’s the truth. My mind isn’t one singular, unified thing. There are other parts of me, other versions of me, each with their own… purpose.”

He paused, his expression darkening slightly. “You’ve already met one of them. The Nachtkrapp.”

Austria felt his breath catch. The memory of the shadowy figure, with its piercing gaze and predatory grace, sent a shiver down his spine. “That’s… that’s not you?”

“Not exactly,” Kaiserreich said, his voice firm. “The Nachtkrapp is a part of me, but it’s not me in the way you know. It’s… instinct, hunger, and predatory cunning. It exists for the night, for the hunt.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as it met Austria’s. “And it’s the only part of me that can sense you—always. No matter where you are.”

Austria’s mind reeled, the pieces clicking together in a way that was both terrifying and oddly comforting. “So… the Kaiserreich I see during the day—the one who attends meetings and acts so formal…”

“That’s another part of me,” Kaiserreich interrupted, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You might call him the ‘public’ me. Polished. Controlled. The Empire everyone knows and expects.”

“And now?” Austria pressed, his voice trembling slightly. “Which one are you?”

Kaiserreich chuckled softly, though there was no malice in the sound. “The one who came to save you,” he said simply. “The one who chooses to walk between the others. I suppose you could say I’m the thread that ties it all together. The part that knows how to move between those identities, how to keep everything balanced.”

Austria stared at him, his thoughts racing. “But… how did you get here? If only the Nachtkrapp can sense me…”

“I forced myself,” Kaiserreich said, his voice dropping. “It wasn’t easy. The Nachtkrapp was restless tonight—hungry, eager to roam. But when I felt you slipping into the void, I fought my way to the surface. I had to take control, fall asleep, and enter your dream before it was too late.”

Austria swallowed hard, his chest tightening. “Why?” he asked softly. “Why would you do that for me?”

Kaiserreich tilted his head, his expression softening. “Because you’re important to me,” he said simply. “More than you realize. And while the Nachtkrapp may be the one who senses you, I’m the one who chooses to come for you. Every time.”

The weight of the words settled over Austria like a blanket, heavy and warm. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to say. His chest ached—not with fear, but with something he couldn’t quite name.

“Thank you,” he murmured finally, his voice barely above a whisper. Kaiserreich’s smirk returned, faint but genuine. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said. “Just promise me you’ll stay out of trouble. You’re going to give me gray hairs, Austria.”

Despite himself, Austria let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking through the tension. For the first time in what felt like hours, he felt a sliver of peace.

Chapter Text

         The forest was alive with its own whispers, the soft rustling of leaves brushing against the wind and the faint crunch of Austria’s hurried footsteps on the dirt path. The bag in his hand swung lightly with each step, filled with the contents he’d so meticulously packed earlier that evening.

The canopy above blocked most of the moonlight, casting long, fingerlike shadows that danced in his peripheral vision.

It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, this late-night escapade. Every few moments, Austria stopped to glance behind him, heart hammering in his chest, though he knew better than to expect anything—or anyone—other than the one he was about to meet.

He pressed forward, deeper into the woods, his breaths growing heavier as he climbed a gentle incline. The path was faint here, barely visible even to someone as meticulous as he was. Yet, he continued, as if drawn by an unseen thread. When the ground leveled out, he stopped under a towering oak, the gnarled branches stretching overhead like the arms of some great sentinel. The faint light of the moon spilled through the gaps in the leaves, illuminating his flushed face. He set the bag down, bending slightly to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell with exertion, and a small smile played at his lips. He didn’t need to turn around to know what would happen next.

There was a whisper of movement behind him—so soft it could’ve been mistaken for the wind if Austria didn’t already know better. He straightened, still not looking back. His breath hitched as arms slid around his waist, pulling him against a firm chest. Warmth enveloped him, and a face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You’re late,” came the low, familiar voice, teasing yet affectionate.

Austria closed his eyes, his smile widening as he leaned into the embrace. “You could’ve met me halfway,” he replied, his tone light but carrying a touch of mock indignation.

“And deprive myself of watching you scurry through the woods like a frightened rabbit?”

Kaiserreich’s voice was a mixture of amusement and fondness. His lips brushed against the shell of Austria’s ear, his breath warm and comforting. “Never.”

Austria sighed, allowing himself to melt into the moment. The tension that had been building during his trek eased, replaced by the steady rhythm of Kaiserreich’s presence. “You’re insufferable,” he murmured, though there was no real bite to his words.

Kaiserreich chuckled, the vibration of it humming against Austria’s back. “And yet, here you are,” he said, finally loosening his hold. “Come on, then. Let’s see what you’ve brought this time.”

Austria turned, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. The moonlight caught on Kaiserreich’s sharp features, highlighting the amused glint in his eyes and the slight smirk on his lips. It was moments like these that made Austria’s chest tighten, though he quickly pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

He crouched to retrieve the bag, opening it to reveal an assortment of items: a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, a selection of cheeses, and a few carefully chosen pastries. Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” he remarked, crouching beside Austria to inspect the contents. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

Austria rolled his eyes, though his cheeks warmed at the compliment. “I figured you’d appreciate something a little… refined,” he said, pulling out the bottle of wine and handing it to Kaiserreich.

“Make yourself useful and open this.”

Kaiserreich took the bottle with a mockingly exaggerated bow, pulling a corkscrew from his pocket. “As you wish, mein kleiner Gourmet,” he said, his tone playful.

Austria busied himself with laying out the food, spreading a small blanket he’d tucked into the bag across the grass. The setting was intimate, the forest’s shadows adding a sense of seclusion and magic to the scene. By the time Kaiserreich had poured two glasses of wine, Austria had arranged the food to perfection.

They sat together, their shoulders brushing as they shared the meal. Conversation flowed easily, a mix of teasing banter and moments of genuine connection. The night stretched on, the forest their only witness, as they enjoyed the peculiar serenity of each other’s company.

Austria-Hungary reached for his glass of wine, swirling the deep red liquid gently before lifting it toward his lips. The rich aroma wafted upwards, mingling with the crisp night air. Just as he was about to take a sip, Kaiserreich’s hand shot out, his fingers closing around Austria’s wrist with surprising gentleness yet undeniable firmness.

“Wait,” Kaiserreich said, his voice low but commanding. “Let me see that first.”

Austria blinked, his brow furrowing as he stared at the German. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Just humor me.” Kaiserreich’s gaze flicked between Austria and the glass, his expression unreadable.

With a sigh, Austria handed over the wine. “Fine, but I don’t see the point in this. It’s wine, not poison.”

Kaiserreich didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took the glass and tilted it under the moonlight, studying the way the liquid caught the faint silver glow. He swirled it slowly, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply before examining the rim of the glass. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the faint rustling of leaves overhead.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Austria remarked, watching Kaiserreich with a mix of curiosity and impatience. “Care to explain why you’ve suddenly decided to play wine inspector?”

Kaiserreich smirked but didn’t look up. “One can never be too careful, mein Freund. Especially with you.”

Austria narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Kaiserreich began, finally meeting Austria’s gaze, “that I know how easy it is for someone like you to attract trouble. Call it paranoia, if you like, but I prefer to think of it as vigilance.”

Austria folded his arms, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Are you suggesting someone would poison me at a private picnic? In the middle of the woods? With no one else around?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Kaiserreich said, taking a cautious sip from the glass himself before holding it out for Austria. “It’s fine.”

Austria snatched the glass back, his cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Kaiserreich chuckled, settling back against the tree behind him. “And yet, you still come running to me. Makes you wonder who’s really the impossible one.”

Austria huffed, finally taking a sip of the wine. The smooth, fruity notes spread across his palate, but the irritation lingered in the back of his mind. “You’re awfully protective for someone who enjoys scaring me half to death on a regular basis.”

Kaiserreich shrugged, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “Consider it a balance. I scare you, but I keep you safe. Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“Friends don’t inspect each other’s drinks like paranoid lunatics,” Austria retorted, though his tone lacked venom.

“Perhaps not.” Kaiserreich tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful.

“But I’m not most friends, am I?”

Austria fell silent, his gaze dropping to the wine in his hand. He hated how easily Kaiserreich could disarm him, how the German’s words always seemed to carry an undercurrent of truth he couldn’t ignore. As much as he wanted to be annoyed, a part of him appreciated the concern—however overbearing it might be.

“You’re infuriating,” Austria muttered, taking another sip.

“And you’re welcome,” Kaiserreich replied smoothly, leaning forward to grab another piece of bread. “Now, tell me more about how you thought sneaking out here at this hour was a good idea. I’m curious to hear your logic.”

Austria sighed, rolling his eyes. “It was supposed to be a quiet evening. But I should’ve known better than to expect that with you involved.”

Kaiserreich leaned back against the tree trunk, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and watched as Austria took another sip of the wine. His sharp, calculating gaze softened slightly the edges smoothing into something more playful.

“Careful,” Kaiserreich said, his voice laced with mock concern. “You’ll finish the whole glass, and I’ll have nothing left to critique.”

Austria smirked, lifting the glass as if to toast. “Isn’t that your fault for being so paranoid? I’m just ensuring it’s properly enjoyed.”

“Properly enjoyed?” Kaiserreich quirked an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Hand it over, then. Let me see how properly you’re enjoying it.”

Austria hesitated for a moment before extending the glass toward him, the faint brush of their fingers sending a shiver up his spine. Kaiserreich took the glass with a deliberate slowness, his fingers lingering just long enough to make Austria aware of the brief contact.

The German raised the glass to his lips, his movements unhurried and precise. He drank with an almost regal air, as though savoring not just the wine but the atmosphere between them.

When he handed the glass back, his eyes lingered on Austria’s for a beat too long, his smirk returning with a softer edge.

“Not bad,” Kaiserreich said, his tone casual but with a hint of teasing. “Though I can’t tell if it’s the wine or the company that’s better.”

Austria’s cheeks flushed, and he quickly looked away, pretending to inspect the picnic basket.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he muttered, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“Who said I was trying to get anywhere?” Kaiserreich retorted, leaning in slightly. “Maybe I’m just stating the obvious.”

Austria chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And yet,” Kaiserreich said, his voice dropping slightly, “you don’t seem to mind.”

Austria turned back to him, his gaze meeting Kaiserreich’s. The playful banter between them had shifted, the air growing thicker with an unspoken tension. Kaiserreich still held the glass, his fingers idly tracing the rim as though considering his next move.

“You’re surprisingly good company,” Austria admitted, his voice quieter now.

“Surprisingly?” Kaiserreich feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Austria.”

“You know what I mean,” Austria said, rolling his eyes but smiling.

Kaiserreich leaned forward, closing the small space between them as he handed the glass back. This time, their fingers brushed again, lingering a fraction longer. Austria swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest.

“Here,” Kaiserreich said, his tone lighter but with a glimmer of something deeper beneath it.

“Your turn.”

Austria accepted the glass, though his hands felt slightly unsteady. He took a sip, the wine’s warmth spreading through him, though he couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way Kaiserreich was looking at him.

“You’re not just here for the wine, are you?” Austria asked, his voice soft but pointed.

Kaiserreich smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes. “No, I’m not.”

Austria’s breath hitched, and he quickly averted his gaze, staring down at the glass in his hand.

He felt Kaiserreich’s eyes on him, studying him with that same intensity that always made him feel exposed yet oddly safe.

“Relax,” Kaiserreich said after a moment, his tone easing back into its usual teasing lilt. “I’m not about to swoop in and ruin the moment. Unless you want me to.”

Austria huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

“True,” Kaiserreich admitted, his grin widening. “But you like me that way, don’t you?”

Austria didn’t respond, but the faint flush creeping up his neck was answer enough.

The two fell into a more comfortable silence after that, the shared wine glass passing between them as they spoke of lighter things—fragments of the day, fleeting thoughts, and subtle jests that kept the mood buoyant. By the time the bottle was empty, Austria felt a strange mixture of calm and restlessness, as though he wanted the night to stretch on forever but feared what more time might reveal.

“You should smile more,” Kaiserreich said suddenly, his voice softer now.

Austria blinked, startled by the sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“You should smile more,” Kaiserreich repeated, his gaze steady. “It suits you.”

Austria stared at him, unsure how to respond. He settled for a small, tentative smile, which only made Kaiserreich’s smirk deepen.

“See?” Kaiserreich said, leaning back against the tree with a satisfied expression. “Much better.”

Austria shook his head, laughing quietly. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re charming,” Kaiserreich countered smoothly, lifting his gaze to the stars above. “An interesting combination, mein Freund.”

Austria didn’t trust himself to respond to that, so he simply settled back beside Kaiserreich, letting the quiet comfort of the moment fill the space between them.

Austria’s gaze lingered on the empty wine glass in his hand, his thoughts swirling like the dregs of the bottle they had shared. His mind betrayed him, replaying the moments from earlier in the evening—the lingering touches, the subtle shifts in Kaiserreich’s tone, and the way the German’s eyes seemed to see more than Austria intended to reveal.

The realization hit him like a sudden gust of wind, sharp and undeniable: he wanted more than this camaraderie, more than stolen moments under starlit skies. He wanted to reach out, to close the ever-present gap between them, to turn Kaiserreich’s teasing smirks into something softer, something meant only for him.

But fear held him back. What if he was wrong? What if he reached and found nothing there?

“You’ve gone quiet,” Kaiserreich said, breaking the silence. His voice carried a gentle curiosity, though it was tinged with something deeper. He turned his head slightly to study Austria, his sharp features softened by the dim moonlight. “Thinking too much, as always?”

Austria flinched, embarrassed at being caught in his thoughts. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just tired,” he lied, setting the glass aside.

Kaiserreich hummed, unconvinced. “Tired… or conflicted?”

The words made Austria freeze. He shot a quick glance at Kaiserreich, whose expression was unreadable, save for the faint curve of his lips—a smile that seemed to know far more than it should.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Austria asked, his voice sharper than intended.

“Nothing,” Kaiserreich replied smoothly, leaning back against the tree with a casual air. “Just an observation.”

Austria bit his lip, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to change the subject, to steer them away from dangerous territory before he let something slip. But before he could speak, Kaiserreich tilted his head, his next words stopping Austria cold.

“Tell me something,” Kaiserreich said, his voice dropping slightly. It was still light, but there was a gravity beneath it that hadn’t been there before. “Could you ever love another man?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. Austria’s breath caught in his throat, and he looked at Kaiserreich as if to confirm he had heard correctly.

Kaiserreich’s expression didn’t falter. His smirk had faded, replaced by something quieter, more genuine. He didn’t look away, didn’t shy from the weight of his own question.

“I—” Austria began, but the words wouldn’t come. His mind raced, torn between honesty and self-preservation.

Kaiserreich chuckled softly, though it lacked his usual sharpness. “Too bold?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a bit… careful.”

Austria’s cheeks burned, and he turned his gaze away, unable to meet Kaiserreich’s piercing eyes. “It’s not that,” he mumbled, his hands twisting in his lap. “It’s just…”

“It’s just complicated,” Kaiserreich finished for him, his tone more understanding than mocking.

Austria nodded, grateful for the out, even if it didn’t fully encompass the truth.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the forest filled the silence—the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the distant hoot of an owl.

“It’s not so complicated for me,” Kaiserreich said after a while, his voice quieter now. “I’ve never been one for rules or expectations. I care for who I care for.”

The words sent a jolt through Austria, and he risked a glance at Kaiserreich, who was staring up at the sky as if the stars held the answers.

“Must be nice,” Austria said softly, though there was no bitterness in his tone—only a quiet envy.

Kaiserreich looked at him then, his gaze steady and unflinching. “It has its challenges,” he admitted. “But it’s worth it when you find someone worth caring for.”

Austria swallowed hard, his throat dry. He wanted to ask—wanted to know if Kaiserreich meant him—but the words refused to form. Instead, he looked down at his hands, his fingers still fidgeting with the hem of his coat.

Kaiserreich sighed, though it wasn’t in frustration. If anything, it was almost fond. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Austria’s wrist, stilling his nervous movements.

“You think too much,” Kaiserreich said again, though this time his voice was softer, more patient. “But I don’t mind waiting.”

Austria’s heart twisted at the words, and he finally looked up, meeting Kaiserreich’s gaze. The German’s expression was open, his usual sharpness tempered by a rare gentleness.

“Maybe it’s not so complicated after all,” Austria said quietly, surprising even himself.

Kaiserreich’s lips curved into a small smile, one that didn’t carry his usual teasing edge. “Maybe not,” he agreed.

The moment stretched between them, fragile but unbroken. For this time in what felt like forever, Austria allowed himself to hope.

Chapter Text

         The soft hues of dawn crept over the horizon, bathing the forest in a dim, ethereal light. Austria stirred, his mind groggy and caught in the lingering traces of dreams. The sensation of warmth beneath him, the solid rise and fall of another’s chest, drew him fully into wakefulness.

His breath hitched as he realized where he was—or rather, on whom he was lying. Kaiserreich.

Austria blinked, his lashes heavy with sleep, and turned his face slightly. The faint scent of leather, pine, and the distinct musk of Kaiserreich’s cologne filled his senses. It was grounding, almost intoxicating, and for a moment, he allowed himself to relax against the German’s chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulling him.

The morning air was cool, and the forest still held onto the remnants of night. Shadows stretched long and thin across the clearing, a reminder that the world outside their bubble still existed. Somewhere beyond the trees, Austria’s responsibilities awaited—his father’s scrutiny, the endless meetings, the ever-looming expectations of propriety.

Yet here, nestled against Kaiserreich, those concerns felt distant. He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to study the man beneath him. Even in sleep, Kaiserreich exuded a quiet power. His face, so often sharp and commanding, now seemed peaceful, the tension smoothed away by slumber. His hair fell slightly across his forehead, and Austria resisted the urge to brush it back.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Austria’s lips. How different Kaiserreich looked like this—unguarded, almost gentle.

But the smile faded as the reality of the situation crept in. He was out in the forest, lying on Germany, with dawn fast approaching. If anyone noticed his absence… if word got back to his father…

He sat up carefully, trying not to disturb Kaiserreich. The crisp morning air bit at his skin, and he wrapped his arms around himself for warmth. His gaze drifted to the horizon, where the first rays of sunlight painted the sky in soft pinks and oranges. He should leave. He needed to leave.

But his body betrayed him, his limbs refusing to move. The thought of leaving this moment—this quiet, stolen fragment of peace—felt unbearable. The scent of the forest mingling with Kaiserreich’s cologne, the way the German’s presence seemed to anchor him, kept him rooted in place.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and Austria shivered slightly, glancing down at Kaiserreich again. The German’s breathing was steady, his face still serene. For all his power and pride, Kaiserreich looked entirely human in this moment.

Austria reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against the hem of Kaiserreich’s coat. The fabric was rough against his fingertips, grounding him further. He let his hand fall back to his lap, his thoughts spiraling. What was he doing?

He should wake Kaiserreich. They could part ways before the sun rose fully, before the world woke and their absence became suspicious. Yet he found himself reluctant, unwilling to disturb the fragile tranquility of the moment.

Instead, he leaned back against the tree behind him, drawing his knees to his chest. The forest was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of a bird or the rustle of leaves in the breeze. He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply. The scent of Kaiserreich’s cologne lingered, warm and comforting.

The minutes stretched on, and still Austria didn’t move. His mind raced with excuses—he would leave in another moment, just one more. He would let the dawn break fully, give Kaiserreich a little more rest before stirring him. But deep down, Austria knew the truth. He wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet.

The rustling of fabric and a sharp intake of breath stirred Austria from his thoughts. Kaiserreich’s chest rose unevenly beneath him, and with a soft groan, the German opened his eyes. The air shifted as his gaze focused, the serene expression of sleep melting into something cold and calculating.

“Where… am I?” The voice was low, clipped—devoid of the teasing warmth Austria had grown accustomed to.

Austria sat upright, startled by the sudden shift. “You’re—”

Kaiserreich’s eyes locked onto him, narrowing with suspicion. “Austria-Hungary?” His tone was sharp, the inflection making it clear he was no longer speaking to a friend but addressing a stranger. “What is this? What are you doing here? And why—” His voice hardened further as he took in their surroundings, “—am I in the middle of the woods, lying on the ground, with you?”

Austria felt the sting of confusion and hurt prick at his chest. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. The change in Kaiserreich was palpable—this wasn’t the playful, confident figure who had embraced him so tightly mere hours ago.

Kaiserreich sat up abruptly, his movements precise, almost militaristic, brushing dirt from his uniform with practiced efficiency. “Explain yourself,” he demanded, his icy gaze piercing through Austria. “What kind of scheme is this? What are you playing at?”

Austria fumbled for an explanation, his voice wavering. “I… I don’t know what you mean. You… you were here with me last night.”

“Clearly.” Kaiserreich’s tone was biting, his lips pressed into a thin line. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why were we here? What did I say or do to you? And what in God’s name did you do to me?”

Austria recoiled at the accusation, his stomach twisting. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

“Then how do you explain this?” Kaiserreich gestured around them, his movements sharp. “The last thing I remember, I was preparing for a meeting in Berlin. Now I’m here, God knows how far from home, with the son of the Austrian Empire lying on me like some…” He trailed off, his voice thick with disbelief. Realization began to dawn on Austria, his breath catching as the pieces fell into place. “You don’t remember… last night?”

Kaiserreich scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Clearly not. And I’m not interested in riddles, Austria. I want answers. Now.”

Austria hesitated, his heart pounding. “It… it wasn’t you,” he began cautiously. “Not… this you, at least. It was the other you.”

The German’s expression darkened, his brows furrowing in suspicion. “Other me?”

“Yes,” Austria said, his voice steadier now. “The Kaiserreich I know. The one who… who…” He faltered, unsure how much to say.

Kaiserreich stepped closer, his presence towering, his shadow stretching over Austria like a physical weight. “What do you mean, ‘the other me’?” His tone was dangerously low, his eyes narrowing further.

Austria swallowed hard, his mind racing. “The one who calls himself the Nachtkrapp. The one who’s… different.”

The air grew heavy between them, and for a moment, Kaiserreich was silent. Then his expression shifted, his eyes flashing with something akin to fury. “Who told you that name?”

“You did,” Austria said quickly, shrinking under the weight of Kaiserreich’s glare. “Or rather, he did. He… he’s been meeting me in my dreams, and—”

“Dreams?” Kaiserreich interrupted, his voice sharp. “You’re saying I’ve been… what, wandering into your dreams? Do you realize how utterly insane that sounds?”

“It’s the truth!” Austria said, his voice rising in desperation. “You’ve been there with me, almost every night. You’ve… you’ve said things, done things, shown me—”

“Enough!” Kaiserreich snapped, his voice cutting through Austria’s protest like a blade. “If this is some elaborate ploy to extort me—”

“Extort you?” Austria’s voice cracked, his hurt boiling over. “Why would I do that? Why would I lie about something so…” He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides. “I thought you trusted me.”

Kaiserreich’s jaw tightened, his stoic mask slipping for just a moment. He looked away, his hands curling into fists. “You shouldn’t know about him,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less tense. “No one should know about him. Not you, not anyone.”

The vulnerability in Kaiserreich’s words struck Austria like a blow. He took a cautious step closer, his voice softening. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said. “I swear. I don’t want anything from you. I just… I just want to understand.”

Kaiserreich turned back to him, his expression conflicted. “You can’t understand,” he said bitterly. “You’re a prince, a child of the Austrian Empire. What do you know about splitting yourself into pieces just to survive? About keeping parts of yourself hidden because the world would tear you apart if it knew the truth?”

Austria flinched, the weight of Kaiserreich’s words settling heavily in his chest. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I want to. I want to help, if you’ll let me.”

For a long moment, Kaiserreich said nothing. His gaze bore into Austria, searching for something—perhaps sincerity, perhaps weakness. Finally, he stepped back, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“If you’re lying to me,” he said quietly, “I’ll know. And I’ll make you regret it.”

Austria nodded, his heart pounding. “I’m not lying,” he said firmly.

Kaiserreich studied him for another moment before turning away, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “We shouldn’t be here,” he muttered. “If anyone finds out about this…”

“They won’t,” Austria said quickly. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Kaiserreich didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The weight of his distrust lingered in the air, but beneath it, Austria thought he saw a glimmer of something else—something like hope.

There was hope in these shadows. Hope for love and hope for understanding. Why wouldn’t they just take that chance and follow that hope to each other? Good question.

Kaiserreich’s expression hardened as Austria’s words hung in the air. “No,” he said sharply, stepping back. “You can’t help me. No one can.”

“Kaiserreich—” Austria started, but the German cut him off with a glare that was both furious and anguished.

“Don’t call me that,” he said, his voice trembling with an edge of despair. “You don’t know what you’re inviting into your life. You think you’ve seen my shadows, but you’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“I want to understand!” Austria pleaded, stepping forward.

Kaiserreich flinched as if the words physically struck him. Then, with a deep breath, he turned away, shrugging off his jacket. Austria gasped as the fabric fell, revealing a massive pair of dark, feathered wings folded tightly against his back.

Before Austria could say another word, Kaiserreich spread his wings wide, the powerful motion creating a gust of wind that sent leaves scattering. He glanced back, his golden eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Forget you ever met me,” he said coldly. Then, with a powerful beat of his wings, he shot into the sky, disappearing into the thick canopy above.

The forest fell silent in his absence, the echoes of his departure ringing in Austria’s ears. For a long moment, Austria stood frozen, staring at the empty space where Kaiserreich had been. His chest ached, a hollow, gnawing sensation that he couldn’t name.

Eventually, he turned and began the long walk back to his estate. The world seemed impossibly vast and empty now, the rustling of the trees and the crunch of leaves underfoot doing little to fill the void Kaiserreich had left behind. By the time Austria reached the grand doors of his home, his legs ached and his heart felt heavier than ever.

The familiar sights of the estate—ornate railings, polished wood, and soft, welcoming light—offered no comfort. Austria climbed the stairs to his room in a haze, shutting the door quietly behind him. He collapsed onto the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, replaying the moment Kaiserreich had flown away.

He had wanted to hope. But now, all he could feel was the sting of rejection and the weight of confusion pressing down on him.

Austria sat on the edge of his bed, his chest tightening with every breath. The emptiness of his room amplified the silence, and his thoughts replayed Kaiserreich’s departure like a broken record. His shoulders shook as he tried to suppress the lump forming in his throat, but the weight of everything—the rejection, the confusion, the overwhelming ache in his chest—was too much.Tears spilled down his cheeks, hot and unrelenting. He buried his face in his hands, muffling the sobs that escaped his lips. The image of Kaiserreich’s wings, dark and imposing, haunted him.

The words the German had left behind cut deeper than he wanted to admit: “Forget you ever met me.”

How could he?

“I thought we were—” Austria choked, the words faltering. Friends? Allies? Something more? He didn’t even know anymore.

The pain of rejection was one thing, but the coldness in Kaiserreich’s voice, the way he had shut him out so completely, was unbearable. Austria clung to the edge of his bed, his nails digging into the fabric of the blanket as if grounding himself could make the ache go away.

Minutes felt like hours as the tears continued to fall, streaking his pale cheeks. His chest ached, his breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Every time he tried to steady himself, a new wave of emotion crashed over him. The memory of Kaiserreich’s warmth the night before, the way he had teased and confided in him, felt like a cruel joke now.

Eventually, exhaustion began to take over. Austria’s sobs quieted, leaving only the occasional hiccup and the lingering sting in his eyes. He wiped at his face with trembling hands, though his tears left a salty trail on his skin. He lay back on the bed, staring at the intricate designs of the ceiling. He wanted answers. He wanted to understand why Kaiserreich had pushed him away so forcefully, why he had fled instead of letting Austria in. But most of all, he wanted to know if he would ever see him again.

The thought brought a fresh pang to his heart, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to find peace, even if only for a moment. But the shadows of doubt and longing were not so easily banished. They lingered, curling around him like smoke, and Austria wondered if the ache in his chest would ever fade.

Chapter Text

         The gentle hum of life in the garden wrapped around Austria like a fragile cocoon, soothing yet unable to fully mend the wounds he carried. A week had passed since Kaiserreich’s abrupt departure, but the ache remained, nestled deep in his chest. It was a quiet ache now, dulled by time and routine, though it never truly left him.

He sat at a wrought-iron table adorned with lace cloth, its surface scattered with plates of fruit tarts, warm pastries, and honeyed bread. The soft clink of porcelain broke the tranquility as a servant poured freshly brewed coffee into his cup, the rich aroma mixing with the floral perfume of the garden.

Austria offered the servant a polite nod before lifting the delicate cup to his lips, savoring the warmth of the brew. He tried to focus on the simplicity of the morning, the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows over the cobblestone path. Around him, bees buzzed lazily between blooms, and butterflies fluttered with an unhurried grace.

Birdsong filled the air, a cheerful melody that made the garden feel alive. A robin perched on a low-hanging branch, tilting its head as though it were observing him. For a moment, Austria found himself envying its carefree existence.

His gaze drifted to the roses lining the path, their petals unfurling in a display of vibrant reds and soft pinks. They reminded him of evenings spent in quiet companionship, of laughter that came easier than it should have, and of warmth that now felt like a distant memory.

He set his cup down, staring at the steam that curled upward, dissipating into nothingness. It was how he felt—adrift, uncertain, and fragile. And yet, the garden’s beauty offered a semblance of comfort. It was a fleeting solace, but it was something to hold on to.

The faint crunch of gravel broke his reverie. Another servant approached, placing a fresh plate of apricot pastries in front of him. Austria murmured a soft “thank you” and reached for one, the buttery crust crumbling beneath his touch.

He bit into it, the sweetness mingling with the faint tang of the fruit. It was pleasant, but even the flavors seemed muted. His mind wandered to thoughts he had tried to push aside—the echo of

Kaiserreich’s voice, the memory of his touch, the sight of those wings spreading against the backdrop of the forest.

Austria sighed, setting the half-eaten pastry back onto the plate. The robin on the branch chirped, drawing his attention once more. It hopped along the branch, as if urging him to move, to do something other than sit in his solitude.

But what was there to do? Kaiserreich had left, leaving nothing but questions and an emptiness that Austria didn’t know how to fill.

The garden was alive, vibrant, and cheerful, but it only served to highlight the contrast within him. He picked up his coffee cup again, cradling it in his hands. Perhaps time would heal the wounds. Perhaps not. For now, he could only sit in the embrace of the garden, letting the warmth of the sun and the hum of life wash over him.

And as he took another sip, he let himself believe, if only for a moment, that the ache in his chest was beginning to fade.

The soft rustle of fabric announced Vienna’s arrival before Austria-Hungary even looked up. Her presence was like a fresh breeze—calm, graceful, and unassuming yet carrying a quiet strength. The personification of Austria's beloved capital, Vienna, was dressed in a flowing cream-colored gown, its embroidery glinting faintly in the morning sun. Her golden hair was tied back in a simple yet elegant bun, and her pale blue eyes held the same warmth as the coffee Austria sipped.

"Good morning, Austria," she greeted, her voice soft yet confident as she took a seat across from him at the wrought-iron table.

Austria-Hungary straightened slightly, a habit ingrained from years of formal gatherings. "Good morning, Vienna," he replied, managing a polite smile. "I wasn’t expecting you."

"That much is obvious," she teased gently, nodding toward his slightly disheveled appearance.

Though he was always presentable, the subtle weariness in his expression hadn’t escaped her notice. "You look tired."

"Hardly surprising," he murmured, glancing down at his cup. "The Empire has kept me busy these past weeks."

Vienna arched a brow, reaching for a pastry from the nearby plate. "And you’ve kept yourself preoccupied with far more than state matters, I imagine."

He stiffened but chose to say nothing, instead taking a small sip of his coffee.

Satisfied with his non-response, Vienna changed the subject, delicately dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a linen napkin before speaking again. "Your father has requested that you increase your presence at political functions. He believes it’s time you take on a more active role."

Austria’s brows furrowed, the lines of his face deepening in subtle frustration. "I’ve attended plenty of meetings and events," he argued, setting his cup down with a faint clink. "Surely that suffices for now."

Vienna shook her head, her expression patient. "He means more than just attendance. Your presence is noted, yes, but you must start contributing—becoming a voice in the discussions, not merely an observer."

"I am sixteen," Austria countered, though his tone lacked real conviction. "Surely I’m not expected to carry the weight of the Empire already."

"You represent the next generation," Vienna replied, her tone gentle but firm. "You must show the world that you are more than a figurehead, that you are prepared to lead when the time comes."

Austria sighed, his gaze drifting to the garden beyond. The bees buzzed around the lavender, a blur of activity that only made his own sense of inadequacy more pronounced. "What does he expect me to say at these gatherings? Everyone seems so sure of themselves. What could I possibly add?"

"Your father sees potential in you, Austria," Vienna said softly, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "And I see it too. You have a unique perspective, one shaped by the challenges and transitions of your youth. Speak from the heart, and the rest will follow."

He glanced at her, searching for any hint of insincerity but found none. Vienna was nothing if not genuine, her kindness often tempered by a pragmatism that reminded him of his father.

After a moment of silence, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. "You’re relentless, aren’t you?"

"When it comes to your growth, yes," she replied with a teasing glint in her eye.

Austria shook his head, reaching for a small tart. "Very well. I’ll do my best. But don’t expect miracles."

"Nobody expects miracles," Vienna said with a smile, picking up her teacup. "Only progress."

The two fell into a comfortable rhythm, discussing the details of upcoming events and the pressing issues of the day. Vienna’s measured insights provided clarity, and her confidence in Austria’s abilities lent him a small but much-needed sense of reassurance.

As they continued, the morning light grew brighter, the shadows retreating as the sun climbed higher. For the first time in what felt like weeks, Austria felt a flicker of hope—perhaps Vienna was right. Perhaps he could rise to the challenges ahead, one step at a time.

Vienna sipped her tea thoughtfully, her gaze drifting to the blooming roses lining the edge of the garden. For a moment, a comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the soft hum of insects and the gentle rustling of leaves in the morning breeze.

"I heard something interesting the other day," Vienna said, her tone casual yet carrying an undercurrent of intrigue.

Austria-Hungary glanced up from his pastry, brow arching in curiosity. "Oh?"

"It’s about Kaiserreich," she continued, setting her cup down gently. Her blue eyes flicked to his, gauging his reaction. "There are whispers about his health. Some say he hasn’t been sleeping and has been acting… erratic."

Austria stiffened, the casual morning atmosphere instantly shifting in his mind. He forced himself to maintain a neutral expression, though his fingers tightened around his fork. "Whispers? From whom?"

"Various sources," Vienna replied, shrugging delicately. "Representatives from smaller states, some diplomats from your father’s court. They say he’s been appearing at meetings uncharacteristically late—or not at all. Others claim he’s been muttering to himself or acting as though he’s not entirely present."

"That hardly seems credible," Austria said, trying to mask his unease. "Kaiserreich is many things, but 'erratic' is not one of them."

Vienna tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "Perhaps not in the public eye, but these rumors didn’t spring from nowhere. Even his allies are murmuring about it. They say his perfectionism may finally be catching up to him."

Austria’s appetite disappeared entirely, and he pushed his plate away. His mind churned with memories of Kaiserreich’s different sides—the stoic, calculating leader and the shadowed, mischievous Nachtkrapp he knew in private. Could there be truth to the rumors? Was Kaiserreich struggling in ways he hadn’t revealed, even to him?

"Why does it bother you so much?" Vienna asked gently, her voice breaking into his thoughts.

Austria blinked, realizing too late that his expression had betrayed him. "It doesn’t bother me," he said quickly, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. "I simply find it… unlikely."

Vienna studied him for a moment, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "Unlikely, perhaps. But I can see it troubles you."

Austria looked away, feigning interest in the flowers across the garden. "It’s just strange, that’s all. Kaiserreich isn’t someone I’d expect to—" He cut himself off, unsure how to phrase his thoughts without revealing too much.

"To show weakness?" Vienna finished for him, her tone neither judgmental nor prying.

He nodded reluctantly.

"Even the strongest among us are not invincible, Austria," she said, her voice softer now.

"Perhaps these rumors are exaggerated, or perhaps there is some truth to them. Either way, it would do you no good to dwell on what you cannot control."

Austria frowned, her words logical yet unsatisfying. "And if he is unwell?" he asked quietly, more to himself than to her.

"Then it will be for him and his people to address," Vienna replied, her tone firm but kind. "You have your own responsibilities to focus on. Don’t lose sight of them for the sake of conjecture."

He nodded, though his thoughts remained elsewhere. The idea of Kaiserreich—powerful, commanding Kaiserreich—being brought low by his own mind was unsettling in a way he couldn’t fully articulate. It gnawed at him, a faint but persistent ache that refused to be ignored.

Vienna watched him closely, her expression unreadable. She reached across the table and placed a reassuring hand on his. "Whatever may come, Austria, you will face it with strength and grace. I know you will."

Austria looked at her, her steady presence grounding him in the moment. He managed a small smile, grateful for her unwavering support even as his mind lingered on the troubling rumors.

"Thank you, Vienna," he said softly.

"Always," she replied with a warm smile.

But as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, Austria couldn’t shake the shadow of doubt creeping into his thoughts. Somewhere far from this peaceful garden, Kaiserreich was struggling—or so it seemed. And no matter how much he tried to push the idea away, Austria felt an undeniable pull to uncover the truth, even if it meant confronting the darker side of the man who had come to mean so much to him.

As breakfast came to a close, Vienna dabbed her lips with a napkin and gave Austria-Hungary one last meaningful look.

"Remember, Austria, strength doesn’t always mean bearing every burden alone," she said as she rose gracefully. "If there’s someone you’re worried about, perhaps it’s worth reaching out to them, even if it feels risky."

Austria nodded absently, her words resonating more than he cared to admit. "Thank you, Vienna. Your advice is always... invaluable."

She smiled, touched his shoulder briefly, and departed, leaving Austria to finish the last sips of his now-cool coffee.

The walk to his room was slow, deliberate. The corridors of the grand estate seemed more cavernous than usual, the muted morning light casting faint shadows along the walls. His footsteps echoed softly as he mulled over the idea that had taken root during breakfast

By the time he entered his room, the decision was made. He sat at his writing desk, pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill. His hand hovered for a moment before he dipped the quill into ink, the steady scratching sound filling the quiet space as he began to write.

***

Dear Kaiserreich,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I must confess my doubts on the matter. Rumors of your health have reached even my quiet corner of the world. They speak of sleepless nights and troubled thoughts, of a man burdened beyond what anyone should bear. I cannot help but wonder if there is truth in these whispers, and it pains me to think you might be suffering alone.

You once said we were friends, and I have come to cherish that bond. Yet I feel as though there is a distance between us now—a wall I cannot see, much less tear down. I wish to understand, truly, what burdens you carry and why you seem so reluctant to share them.

If you are willing, meet me in the woods at midnight. The place where we last spoke. Let us talk openly, without pretense or pride. I promise to listen without judgment, but I ask the same of you. Whatever our terms may be, let us define them together, rather than leaving them to the uncertainty that now haunts us both. I await your answer.

Yours in friendship and concern,

Austria-Hungary

***

Austria-Hungary sat back, rereading the letter with a critical eye. His words were heartfelt, yet cautious. It was a gamble—he knew that much. But the thought of doing nothing, of letting the rift between them grow wider, was unbearable.

Folding the letter carefully, he sealed it with wax and called for a trusted servant. "See that this is delivered discreetly," he instructed.

The servant bowed and departed, leaving Austria alone with his thoughts. He stood by the window, gazing out at the bright, lively garden below. It was a stark contrast to the shadowed woods where he hoped Kaiserreich would meet him, a setting that seemed to reflect the uncertainty of their connection.

As the hours passed, Austria’s resolve wavered, doubts creeping in. Would Kaiserreich even read the letter? And if he did, would he agree to the meeting—or would he dismiss Austria’s concerns entirely?

For now, all he could do was wait.

Chapter Text

         The streets were impossibly dark, the cobblestones slick with an unplaceable wetness that made Austria’s steps falter. He was running, breathless, his heart pounding louder than the echo of his hurried footsteps. Around him, shadows stretched and writhed like living creatures, but it wasn’t the shifting darkness that filled him with dread.

It was the sound—wings, enormous and heavy, beating against the air like distant thunder. And then, the screech: a jagged, ear-splitting cry that froze him mid-step. He turned his head and saw it.

A monstrous crow-like creature loomed in the darkness, its wingspan blocking out the pale glimmers of moonlight. Eyes like burning embers bore into him, and its beak clicked with the promise of violence. The beast let out another piercing shriek and dove, talons extended.

Austria bolted into the woods, his hands scraping against rough bark as he tried to steady himself. Branches snagged his clothes, tearing at fabric and skin alike, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

Yet, no matter how far he ran, the shadow-beast closed the distance effortlessly, its claws brushing against his back. He stumbled into a clearing, breath ragged and chest heaving, only to find himself trapped. The enormous creature landed in front of him, folding its wings with a menacing elegance.

A guttural growl rumbled from its throat as it lunged. Austria cried out, raising his arms defensively, but it was futile. The creature pinned him to the ground, its talons digging into his shoulders. The weight of it pressed the air from his lungs, and he could do nothing but stare into those blazing eyes as the monster leaned down, its sharp beak inches from his face—

Austria woke with a strangled gasp, his entire body trembling. His nightshirt clung to his skin, soaked with sweat, and his heart raced as though he were still being chased. For a moment, he couldn’t move, his mind struggling to distinguish reality from the lingering terror of his dream.

Finally, he forced himself upright, wincing at the stiffness in his limbs. His gaze fell on the pitcher of water on the nightstand, and he reached for it with shaking hands. The water splashed unevenly into the glass, but he paid no mind as he gulped it down, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

He sat there for a while, the empty glass held tightly in his hands as he tried to steady his breathing. But even as the physical panic ebbed, the fear lingered, clinging to the edges of his thoughts like cobwebs.

***

Morning came sluggishly, and Austria found himself at his desk, the usual comfort of routine doing little to ease his nerves. The letter to Kaiserreich had been sent days ago, yet there had been no word in return. It was foolish to expect an immediate response—if any response at all—but the uncertainty gnawed at him.

His fingers drummed against the polished wood of the desk, the rhythmic tapping doing little to calm his anxious energy. His eyes kept darting to the door, as if a messenger might burst through at any moment, though he knew better than to hope for such promptness.

The ache in his chest was twofold. Part of him desperately wanted to see Kaiserreich again, even if only to receive an answer—an acknowledgment of his concerns. But another part feared that his letter had been ignored entirely, discarded as a trivial matter unworthy of attention.

He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "Why did I write it?" he muttered to himself. "Why do I always..."

The thought trailed off, his words dissolving into the silence of the room. His gaze drifted to the window, where sunlight filtered through the curtains in soft golden streaks. The scene outside was peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil within him.

With a sigh, Austria returned to his tapping, the sound echoing faintly in the otherwise still air. He wished for distraction, something to pull him from this cycle of doubt and longing. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts circled back to the same point: Kaiserreich.

***

Austria-Hungary straightened his coat, his gloved fingers brushing the polished buttons with meticulous care. The hall before him was grand and opulent, its high ceilings adorned with frescoes depicting triumphs of diplomacy and war. Chandeliers cast a warm golden light over the gathering crowd of representatives and diplomats from across Europe. Today, he stood as an emerging figure, not just his father’s shadow.

“Stand tall,” the Austrian Empire advised, clapping a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was firm but not unkind, a silent affirmation of pride. “Remember, these men respect strength, but they revere grace. Be both.”

Austria nodded, swallowing the lump of anxiety in his throat.

***

The first event was a formal address in a gilded chamber, where Austria-Hungary joined his father to present their nation’s position on trade negotiations. Though his father led thediscussion, Austria contributed succinct points, speaking with a measured calm that earned approving nods from their peers.

Vienna, seated nearby as an observer, caught his eye and gave a subtle, encouraging smile.

***

The day moved swiftly into a private luncheon with diplomats, where Austria found himself seated next to a representative from the French Empire. The conversation was polite, revolving around agricultural exports and the merits of mutual investment. Austria navigated the discussion with skill, earning quiet praise from his father afterward.

“You handled yourself well,” Vienna remarked later as they walked through a corridor toward the next event. She wore a stately gown of deep emerald, her presence elegant and commanding.

“They see you as more than just a figurehead now. Keep it up, and they’ll see you as a statesman.”

Austria smiled faintly but said nothing. Her words were kind, but they couldn’t dispel the lingering shadow in his mind.

***

By evening, the events had shifted to a formal ball, a blend of diplomacy and celebration. Austria stood near the edge of the dance floor, sipping a glass of champagne as he watched the room. His father mingled with representatives, his booming laughter occasionally echoing through the hall.

Vienna approached him, her gloved hand lightly touching his arm. “You’ve impressed a great many today. Your father couldn’t be prouder.”

“Thank you,” Austria said quietly.

“And you should be proud of yourself,” she added. “This is only the beginning, you know.”

He nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

***

As the hours stretched on, Kaiserreich’s image loomed larger in his mind. Austria replayed their last meeting in the forest, the sharpness of their parting words and the weight of unresolved feelings. Even amid the grandeur and praise, he found himself yearning—not for the approval of diplomats or even his father, but for the presence of the enigmatic figure who had invaded both his dreams and his waking thoughts.

A pang of guilt struck him as he realized how preoccupied he was. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t banish Kaiserreich from his mind. The German had become a constant presence, a shadow lingering just at the edges of his consciousness.He sipped his champagne, the bubbly liquid doing little to quell the ache in his chest.

“Are you alright?” Vienna asked, her tone gentle but probing.

“Yes,” Austria lied.

But even as he said it, he knew the truth: a part of him was missing, and until he saw Kaiserreich again, he doubted he would feel whole.

***

The night was unusually still as Austria-Hungary made his way through the forest, the crisp air biting at his cheeks. His boots crunched against the frost-kissed leaves, each step louder than it should have been. In his gloved hand, a letter trembled slightly, the delicate paper crinkling under his grip.

He’d received it not long ago, the wax seal unmistakably German in design. He hadn’t dared open it then, not in front of his father, not under the scrutiny of the house’s staff. He wanted this moment to be his alone, away from the watchful eyes of the world.

The trees loomed around him, their skeletal branches reaching for the stars. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting ghostly patterns on the path ahead. It was the same forest where they’d met before, where shadows seemed to move of their own accord, whispering secrets only they could hear.

His heart pounded as he reached their meeting point, a small clearing encircled by ancient oaks. The same rock where Kaiserreich had sat last time remained in place, its surface dusted with frost. Austria glanced around, half-expecting the German to appear from the shadows, but the clearing was empty.

With a deep breath, he unfolded the letter, his fingers fumbling slightly as he broke the seal. The handwriting was neat, precise, and yet there was something in the strokes—an intensity, a pressure on the page—that betrayed the tension behind the words.

***

Austria,

Your insistence is remarkable, if not vexing. Against my better judgment, I will meet you tonight at the usual place. There are terms we must set, truths we must clarify. Do not misunderstand this as indulgence; it is necessity.

K.

***

Austria exhaled, the breath escaping in a cloud that hung in the cold air. Despite the formal tone, there was something unmistakable in the words—an undertone of worry, perhaps even protectiveness. He clutched the letter tightly, reading it again to ensure he hadn’t misinterpreted anything.

“He’s coming,” Austria whispered to himself, the words both a relief and a source of renewed anxiety.

The sound of a branch snapping behind him made him flinch. He turned sharply, his breath catching in his throat. But there was nothing there—just the wind rustling through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth.

He folded the letter carefully and slipped it into his coat pocket, his hands now trembling for an entirely different reason.

And so he waited, the silence of the forest stretching thin as the minutes dragged on.

Austria hesitated, his breath catching in his chest as he watched Kaiserreich’s guarded expression. Despite the cold edge in the German’s eyes, he saw a flicker of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or even doubt.

“We’ve shared more than just fleeting conversations, Kaiserreich,” Austria began softly, his hands clasped tightly together in front of him. “The other you... Nachtkrapp... we’ve been through things together. He’s chased me in my dreams, teased me, saved me from my own fears. He made me feel like—like I mattered. Like I wasn’t just another piece of the Empire’s machinery.”

Kaiserreich’s expression didn’t shift, but his gaze never left Austria. “You sound as though you’re describing more than friendship,” he said, his voice low and measured. “Was he...?”

Austria’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, but he shook his head quickly. "It wasn’t official, no. But..."

He hesitated, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. “I can’t lie to you. I do feel for him. For you.”

Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, his sharp features softening just a fraction. “You’ve spent time with a fragment of me, Austria. A piece of a fractured whole. Are you sure you even know who I am?”

“I don’t care how many pieces there are!” Austria blurted out, stepping closer to him. His voice shook, but his resolve held firm. “You’re still you, no matter which part I see. And every part I’ve seen—every part I’ve come to know—I...” He stopped, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

Kaiserreich tilted his head slightly, studying him in silence. The moonlight caught the faintest glint of emotion in his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

Austria swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of courage he had. “I love you,” he finally confessed, his voice trembling but steady. “I love every part of you, Kaiserreich.”

Chapter Text

         Kaiserreich blinked, his stoic mask faltering as Austria-Hungary’s words echoed in his mind. For a moment, the still forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence stretching between them like a taut string ready to snap. His sharp, composed features softened ever so slightly, the corner of his lips twitching upward into the faintest of smiles.

“You...” he began, but his words trailed off, as though he were struggling to find the right response. Shock mingled with something warmer—something that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years. He cleared his throat, his golden gaze narrowing slightly as he considered the young man before him.

Austria-Hungary stood firm, his hands clenched at his sides as if bracing for rejection. His cheeks flushed, but his eyes held Kaiserreich’s with unwavering determination. “I meant every word,” Austria added, his voice softer but no less certain.

Kaiserreich took a step closer, his imposing frame towering over the smaller nation. He exhaled deeply, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. “You’re a stubborn one, I’ll give you that,” he said, his tone carrying the slightest hint of amusement.

Austria’s heart leapt, hope flickering in his chest. “Does that mean...?”

Kaiserreich held up a hand, silencing him. “It means,” he began, his voice regaining its familiar authority, “that I’m willing to reconsider my terms.”

Austria’s breath caught, and he stared up at Kaiserreich with wide, eager eyes.

“You’ll write to me,” Kaiserreich continued, his expression settling into one of firm resolve.

“Twice a week. Nothing formal—just whatever’s on your mind. I want to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.”

Austria nodded quickly, his hands trembling with excitement. “I can do that. Of course, I can do that!”

“And,” Kaiserreich added, his tone softening, “I’ll allow Nachtkrapp to... engage with you again. He seems to favor your company, and it would be foolish of me to deprive him of that.”

A bright smile spread across Austria’s face, and before he could stop himself, he threw his arms around Kaiserreich, hugging him tightly. “Thank you,” he said, his voice muffled against the German’s chest. “Thank you, Kaiserreich.”

Kaiserreich stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such sudden displays of affection. But as Austria’s warmth seeped through the layers of his guarded exterior, he relented, letting his arms encircle the smaller nation in return. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

Austria pulled back just enough to look up at him, his eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re kinder than you let on,” he said softly, a hint of teasing in his voice.

Kaiserreich arched an eyebrow, though his expression betrayed the faintest hint of warmth. “Don’t push your luck, Austria,” he said, his voice gruff but lacking its usual edge.

Austria laughed, the sound light and genuine. For the first time in weeks, the heavy weight on his chest seemed to lift, replaced by a cautious but undeniable joy.

As they parted ways under the pale light of the moon, Austria couldn’t help but glance back over his shoulder, his heart swelling with a mix of hope and anticipation. Kaiserreich stood where they had embraced, his tall figure silhouetted against the dark trees, watching him with an unreadable expression.

Austria smiled to himself as he disappeared into the shadows of the forest, already counting the days until their next meeting.

***

The dining hall was warm with sunlight streaming through the tall windows, golden beams playing off the crystal and fine china laid meticulously on the table. The Austrian Empire, regal and composed, sat at the head of the table, his sharp eyes scanning his son as Austria-Hungary quietly sipped from his cup of tea. Vienna sat to Austria’s left, delicately nibbling at a slice of apricot strudel. The tension in the room was subtle but palpable, hanging in the air like an unspoken warning.

“We need to discuss the matter of your safety,” the Austrian Empire began, his tone brisk but not unkind. He set down his fork and leaned forward, his gaze fixed on his son. “The assassination attempt was a wake-up call. From now on, your movements will be closely monitored.”

Austria-Hungary’s fingers tightened slightly around his fork. “Monitored how?” he asked, though his voice remained neutral.

“You won’t be permitted to leave the estate unless absolutely necessary,” Vienna interjected, her voice calm but firm. “And when you do, you will be accompanied by guards at all times.”

Austria-Hungary nodded, keeping his expression composed. He had expected this much. The attack had left everyone on edge, and while he found the restrictions frustrating, he understood their necessity.

“I see,” he replied, taking a small bite of his croissant. “If that’s what you believe is best.”

The Austrian Empire’s brows lifted slightly in surprise at his son’s easy agreement, but he pressed on. “Good. However, this also applies to your nightly escapades.”

Austria-Hungary froze, his fork hovering just above his plate. “My... nightly escapades?”

Vienna cleared her throat delicately, a faint smile playing at her lips. “The servants have noticed, Austria. And so have I. You’re not as stealthy as you think.”

The Austrian Empire nodded, his expression stern but not devoid of concern. “I don’t know what business you have running off into the woods at all hours, but it ends now. You are too valuable to risk on reckless behavior.”

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his stomach knotting. He opened his mouth to object, but his father raised a hand, cutting him off.

“This is not a punishment,” the older man said firmly. “It’s for your safety. Do you understand?”

Austria-Hungary hesitated, his gaze darting to Vienna, who watched him with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. Finally, he nodded, forcing a tight smile. “I understand,” he said, his voice measured.

“Good,” the Austrian Empire said, relaxing slightly. “I trust you will abide by these rules. If anything were to happen to you...” He trailed off, his expression darkening.

“I will,” Austria-Hungary assured him, though his chest felt heavy with the weight of what this meant. No more late-night meetings in the woods. No more chances to see Kaiserreich.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, Austria-Hungary forced himself to smile and participate, but his mind was elsewhere. He toyed with the idea of writing to Kaiserreich about the new restrictions, though he doubted it would offer much comfort.

For now, he would have to resign himself to the cage of his gilded home and hope that somehow, he and Kaiserreich would find a way.

***

Austria-Hungary paced his room, the soft carpet muffling his restless steps as his thoughts spiraled. The faint ticking of the clock on the mantle reminded him how close it was to midnight.

The gilded cage of his home was stifling, his father’s restrictions heavy on his mind. No more sneaking out, no more stolen moments in the woods. And what of Kaiserreich? Would the German even understand, or would he see it as an abandonment of their fragile but budding connection?

He sighed, rubbing his temple as he came to a halt by the window, gazing out at the dark expanse of the garden. Moonlight bathed the scene in silver, the shadows long and almost alive in their motion. A small pang of longing pricked his chest as he imagined Kaiserreich waiting alone, wondering why he hadn’t come.

A sudden knock startled him. He turned sharply toward the door, heart racing. Was it a servant? His father? He composed himself quickly, but as he moved toward the door, a faint sound drew his attention to the window instead.

There, framed in the moonlight, was Kaiserreich. His raven-like wings folded elegantly behind him, his mischievous grin illuminated in the dim glow. Austria-Hungary’s heart leapt in his chest, a mixture of shock and relief flooding him.

“Kaiserreich,” he breathed, rushing to open the window. “What are you—?”

Kaiserreich swung inside effortlessly, his boots landing softly on the carpet. His grin widened, and he gestured to the open window behind him. “What? Did you think I’d just wait around in the woods, wondering if you’d show up?”

Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing as the familiar teasing tone washed over him. “I... I was going to write you,” he admitted, closing the window behind him. “Father has forbidden me from leaving the estate at night. There are guards everywhere. I couldn’t make it to our meeting place.”

Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, his expression softening. “Then I’ll just come to you,” he said simply, his tone warm yet unyielding.

Austria-Hungary blinked, caught off guard by how easily Kaiserreich brushed aside the issue. "You’d do that?”

Kaiserreich tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course. Did you think I’d just let you vanish without a fight?”

Austria-Hungary’s chest tightened, gratitude and relief swirling together. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost in the stillness of the room.

Kaiserreich waved off the sentiment, already lounging against the edge of the desk. “So, tell me about your day,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “How was dinner with dear old Dad?”

Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but laugh, settling onto the edge of his bed as he recounted the evening. He spoke of the conversation about the assassination attempt, his father’s protective restrictions, and the exasperating mention of his failed stealth.

Kaiserreich listened intently, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he teased Austria about being “not as sneaky as he thought.” But there was an underlying warmth in his voice, a pride that shone through when Austria spoke of holding his ground with his father.

“I’m proud of you,” Kaiserreich said suddenly, his voice low and genuine.

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks warmed. “Proud of me? For what?”

“For not letting that other version of me scare you off,” Kaiserreich said, leaning forward slightly, his expression playful yet sincere. “He can be a bit much, can’t he?”

Austria-Hungary smiled, feeling a flicker of pride at the praise. “He can, but I meant what I said. I care about every part of you.”

Kaiserreich chuckled, moving closer until he was standing just before Austria. “Careful,” he teased, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’ll make me blush.”

Austria-Hungary laughed, the sound light and genuine. Emboldened, he stood and wrapped his arms around Kaiserreich in a tight hug. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice muffled against the German’s shoulder.

But before he could say anything more, Kaiserreich shifted his weight, his foot catching on the edge of the rug. In a sudden, clumsy motion, Austria-Hungary found himself falling backward onto the bed, pulling Kaiserreich down with him.

They landed in a tangled heap, laughter bubbling up as Austria-Hungary tried to sit up, only for Kaiserreich to pounce, pinning him to the mattress with a playful grin.

“Well,” Kaiserreich drawled, his voice filled with mischief, “if this isn’t the most convenient position...”

Austria-Hungary’s face flushed crimson, his heart pounding as Kaiserreich’s teasing expression softened, a flicker of something deeper flashing in his golden eyes. Neither of them moved, the air between them charged and electric.

“Convenient for what?” Austria-Hungary managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kaiserreich’s smirk widened, his wings spreading slightly as if to shield them both from the outside world. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he murmured, his voice both playful and earnest, the moment stretching out into eternity.

The air between them grew heavier, their playful laughter fading into a charged silence. Kaiserreich’s teasing grin softened as his golden eyes roamed Austria-Hungary’s face, lingering on his parted lips.

Austria-Hungary’s breath caught in his throat. The weight of Kaiserreich’s presence, the intensity in his gaze, and the closeness of their bodies sent a shiver coursing through him. He was acutely aware of every detail—the slight press of Kaiserreich’s chest against his, the heat radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the earthy aroma of the forest still clinging to his clothes.

Kaiserreich’s hand moved, his fingers brushing along Austria-Hungary’s jaw, tilting his face slightly upward. The touch was featherlight but deliberate, sending sparks skittering down Austria-Hungary’s spine.

“You’re not running away this time,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble that vibrated through the stillness of the room.

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed. “I’m not running,” he whispered, his voice trembling but resolute.

Kaiserreich’s smirk returned, though it was softer now, tinged with something almost vulnerable.

Slowly, he leaned down, his face hovering just above Austria-Hungary’s. Their breaths mingled, and the world seemed to narrow to this single moment, this fragile thread between them.

Austria-Hungary’s hand moved instinctively, brushing against Kaiserreich’s arm before gripping his sleeve tightly, as if anchoring himself. The movement seemed to spur Kaiserreich on.

He closed the final distance, his lips capturing Austria-Hungary’s in a kiss that was firm yet unhurried, testing the waters even as it deepened. Austria-Hungary’s eyes fluttered shut, his heart pounding wildly as he melted into the kiss, his free hand moving to rest against Kaiserreich’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath his palm. Kaiserreich pulled back slightly, his breath warm against Austria-Hungary’s lips. “You taste... sweeter than I expected,” he teased, his voice huskier now, edged with something darker, something needy.

Austria-Hungary’s face burned, but he couldn’t help the small, breathless laugh that escaped him. “Maybe that’s the dessert from dinner,” he offered weakly, his voice trembling.

Kaiserreich chuckled, the sound deep and low. “Or maybe it’s just you,” he countered, leaning back down to claim another kiss, this one more urgent, more fervent. His hands moved, one tangling in Austria-Hungary’s hair, the other bracing against the bed to steady himself as he pressed closer.

Austria-Hungary responded eagerly, his hands sliding up to rest against Kaiserreich’s shoulders, pulling him closer. The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the heat between them, the electricity that seemed to crackle in the air with every movement, every shared breath.

Kaiserreich shifted his weight, his wings spreading slightly as if to envelop them both. The motion brought him even closer, his body pressing Austria-Hungary’s deeper into the soft mattress. The younger man gasped softly against Kaiserreich’s lips, his fingers clutching at his shoulders as his own inhibitions began to crumble.

Kaiserreich pulled back just enough to meet Austria-Hungary’s gaze, his golden eyes blazing with a mixture of desire and something softer, something almost tender. “You’re driving me crazy,” he admitted, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver through Austria-Hungary.

“Good,” Austria-Hungary managed, his voice breathless but laced with surprising boldness.

Kaiserreich laughed softly, the sound melting into another kiss, deeper and more consuming than the last. Each touch, each brush of lips and hands, seemed to pull them further into each other, the boundaries between them dissolving.

The night stretched on, the tension between them building with every shared moment, every unspoken word.

Chapter Text

          Few times does such a young man feel so intimate. And even fewer did he ever find himself caged to his sheets by another man who slipped into his room at night. The only time he may have blushed half as much was while reading his first smut. Yes, little Ol’ Austria-Hungary- the Austrian Empire’s precious angel, had been growing up. He had snuck "Thérèse The Philosopher" - A quite controversial book, into his room from his father’s library. The book was untouched for quite some time, and the rumors around it made it impossible for Austria-Hungary to resist wanting to read it. He had little regret.

Though he had heard many messy things about sex, he couldn’t help but feel the pull towards it. And a book about embracing that part of him had taught him a sense of self-love he couldn’t force back. He even reread it twice.

But this wasn’t some erotic fiction, he was here, lips entwined and hungry… they were kissing! How could he have not noticed the heat of such an act or what was happening in the first place? It appeared easy and so casual of him to be able to just those track while in such a heated moment. What pressure he felt trying to impress and please Kaiserreich, especially in a way he wasn’t familiar with. His mind would resort to other matters that brought him a little less anxiety. However, this was clearly not the time for that. His lips danced with Kaiserreich on the next kiss, a cherry red blush across his face. He’d have to focus if this was how he wanted the night to continue. And he certainly did, he was just so embarrassed. He and Kaiserreich were still young, and neither sat upon a throne or had to consider a public love life yet. But there was no way he could guarantee Kaiserreich was just as inexperienced as he.

“Deutschland…” Austria-Hungary managed out before sloppier and sloppier kisses. After a hum of response, he continued. “My heart and mind allow me no reason to back away from this. However, I wish to know you understand my lack of confidence in this area… not once has one- perhaps even myself, seeing my body in such a bare state. Please, consider mercy to whatever form I host-” He was silenced with a harsh kiss.

Kaiserreich’s hands were secured firmly at either of his cheeks, locking him in place and sparing no room for another word. “Speak of your frame or beauty in such a degrading way again and I will be forced to explore and expose each bit of your grace until I have completed revealed your brilliant features to your modest mind. I will permit no lies, to slip from your perfect soft lips again.”

The Austro-Hungarian froze the heat that swarmed his cheek now a painful burn. “Kaiserreich…” He whined, pulling the corner of a sheet over his clothed chest and cheeks. Kaiserrich growled and tugged the fabric away, gently pinching the smaller’s jaw in his palm.

“Don’t. I’m here to undress you, not add to it.”

Of course, that didn’t help ease Austria’s fluster. However, he was quickly distracted by hot hands approving Kaiserreich’s claim. Austria flinched at first, the ticklish tingle of a handsliding up his stomach. Austria went to open his mouth, stammering instead. Perhaps as sympathy for the embarrassment he must be experiencing, Germany interlocked his lips with him again. Just as greedy as his hands were getting, caressing the tri-colored skin of Austria-Hungary’s chest, Germany’s tongue slithered past the soft gateway of lips and the pricks of the edge of his teeth. Austria-Hungary slowly raised a hand up, resting it on Kaiserreich’s nape. Moans and squeaks were pinched out of him every other time a clawed hand groped his chest, pinching the buds of sensitive flesh that peaked there.

But a series of high-pitched squeals were forced out of him after a smirk crossed the German’s lips and his hands drove back down, tickling Austria’s soft sides. Austria managed to tear himself away from the make-out session, instead laughing and giggling as he breathlessly pleaded and attempted to kick Kaiserreich over him. Kaiserreich swooped down to peck his cheek, finally granting him a break as his fingers locked around Austria’s wrists instead, pushing them above his head slowly. Austria-Hungary hardly even noticed until he went to move them, attempting to raise the German’s head away from his neck. His hands were pressed tightly to the mattress and a beat of panic specked through him, pricks of teeth pressed to his throat.

“Um… being part Nachtkrapp doesn’t entail vampire-ism, too, does it?” Austria-Hungary double-checked.

Kaiserreich laughed and shook his head, kissing Austria’s neck, adding seasoning before he took a bite of his first dessert. “Did you seriously think I was going to bite you to bleed you?”

“Well, no, but-” Austria sealed his lips, reviewing his thoughts. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t… losing uh…”

“My will?” Kaiserreich finished for him.

“Yeah, that…” Austria-Hungary felt a jolt of guilt, figuring thatw as a sensitive nerve for Kaiserreich. Especially given how secretive his more… stoic and public side was about his disorder.

“If I ever do, I give you full permission to do whatever you deem necessary to stop me. Extremely so if I pose a threat to you.” Kaiserreich raises his head, softly cupping his cheek and gazing into his eyes. A whirlpool of emotions was reflected, soft and hues of blue if those ruby eyes. Those colors didn’t match at all. And they stood out so vibrantly… no wonder Kaiserreich wasn’t emotional in front of others, he looked so much softer than he usually was- or at the least, needed to be.

Austria-Hungary smiled, willing his neck forward and head up enough to kiss the German. “Don’t fret. I trust you. You have impeccable self-control.” Austria attempted to assure him.

Kaiserreich smiled and kissed him back, humming and nuzzling against his cheek. A flutter of pecks and gentle nips traveled down Austria’s jaw and under-chin, finding the perfect refuge at his ucipital mapilary, a whimper confirming his assumption. He hummed, suctioning himself to that dimple in his neck. Another trail of whimpers and moans pried their way out from Austria-Hungary, filling the air with their soft arousing sounds.

Kaiserreich pushes away the cloth that covers Austria’s chest, hands pinching one last time before slinking back down to his belt. Austria-Hungary whined, linking his legs with the German’s. Kaiserreich bit deeper into his neck, refusing to release him until the spot would be noticeable for days.

“Deutsch- What if- What if someone sees that… Not all of my collars are so tall.”

Austria-Hungary complained and pointed, though his protests were useless. At least he was assured when Kaiserreich lifted his head and cared for the hickey with a warm kiss.

“Let them. Have them know what I did to you. And let them know you’re taken.” Germany justified.

Austria stuttered, but remained quiet, once again having zoned out too much to have noticed his missing pants. His attention was brought to the heat of his crotch when a heavy palm pressed against it. A shuddered racked up his spine and he let a breathy groan escape.

Eyes wide, he whipped his sight down to the bulge and hand. Kaiserreich gripped his hips, lifting him over onto his stomach.

Austria-Hungary yelped, gripping onto the sheets as his chest was pushed into a pillow, hips pulled up against Kaiserreich’s pelvis. Another wave of embarrassment struck him as he fought his mind from fading out. He was going to face this, head full in the game- Hell, even if he was going to give head to Kaiserreich, he would want to be completely present, no mental distractions. He just felt so exposed and vulnerable. He was nearly nude and his love interest was right against him, leading the way. Though he trusted Kaiserreich’s lead, he just wasn’t sure how to participate himself. It seemed like his reactions were enough to spur Kaiserreich on enthusiastically, but what if that wouldn’t work forever? He just hoped that by that time, he could entertain Kaiserreich alone.

“Comfortable?” Kaiserreich asked, leaning over his rear end to whisper in his ear.

Austria-Hungary nodded, even though the end of his spine felt unpleased, he knew there was no perfect position and this would be the most comfortable for them both. He had to make multiple attempts to speak clearly, a tongue around his ear- then nape, distracting his words.

“Y-yes… very comfortable.”

Kaiserreich eased his boxers off, making Austria tense. “Are you OK?” He checked, wanting to make sure this was what Austria-Hungary wanted.

“Ah, yes… more than OK… I just… don’t know how to… how to um, help?” He spoke, as nervous as ever. If only he could have the confidence he’ll have after years of this.

“As long as you enjoy it, that’s all you need to do.” Kaiserreich stroked his thighs, kissing the end of his spine.

“I could never not enjoy this,” Austria-Hungary claimed.

Kaiserreich smirked, sliding his own pants down to his ankles- not bothering to take his shoes off, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Then brace yourself.” He grinned, groping the ass in his hands. “Do you happen to have any lubrication?”

“Ah… it’s in a shoebox on the nightstand.” Austria-Hungary nodded to the top drawer, watching Kaiserreich open it and pull out the silicone lube. “Do we need anything else?”

“Not unless you have something else you’d like to use. This is all I need.”

“No, no, I’m… fine with just this, too.”

“Good. Because I can’t wait much longer.” Kaiserreich spoke.

Before Austria-Hungary could respond, he shivered at the cold prod at his rear. He gulped and braced himself, arms wrapped into a pile of pillows and tangled in sheets. He suppressed a moan as well as he could as a finger pressed in. A moan reverberated in the pillow he had buried his face in. Never could he have imagined what this feeling would be like.

So many questions popped up in his head… sex education was something his teachers always tip-toed around. Perhaps it was out of the modesty of royal blood, or did every other child enrolled in education recieve similar lacking knowledge?

“All is well?” Kaiserreich broke his thoughts, slowly curling his finger to hit that spot he heard rumors about. The prostate. And those rumors did not lie. Austria-Hungary arched his back and moaned louder than he should have, making Kaiserreich clasp a hand over his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

It twisted and thrust, never harsh, but just making space. A second merging into the entrance with it, and gently spreading him to his current limit. It didn’t entirely hurt in a bad way… it was just so unusual and such an intense feeling he felt overwhelmed at each new stretch. Thankfully, Kaiserreich never pressed him any further than his limits. This was a learning experience for them both.

The finger slid out, another prod taking its place. “Ready? I’ll go slowly if you want.”

“Um… yes, that sounds like a good starting point.” Austria-Hungary nodded, taking a deep breath and biting into the pillow in case another sound wanted out- and it did. Even thoughhe entered slowly, that really only made the aching sensation last longer. Not that Austria would ask to stop. No, it was too good for him to want to stop. He wanted more. Luckily, he got it as soon as Kaiserreich made his first thrust. He made a slight miscalculation, thinking it would take more force than it did to slide in a certain amount. By the time Austria-Hungary was withering again, Kaiserreich happened to be balls-deep in him. He hissed an apology, slowly retracting out to press slower in.

God, were the moans and mewls humiliating. Kaiserreich was grateful for them, though, leaning back over Austria-Hungary, chest pressed to his back. His arms wrapped around Austria’s torso like ivy.

“Austria…” Kaiserreich groaned hoarsely, rutting quickly into him, not that he could move out very far, so it didn’t bring Austria-Hungary any displeasure.

“Germany?” Austria-Hungary responded, flicking his hair to the back of his head as best he could without hands or wacking Germany in the chin.

“Did I ever tell you I loved you?” Kaiserreich growled, lips snarling. He seemed in a haze of lust, sloppily kissing Austria’s shoulder. “Well, I do. I do and I’m going to show it to you…” He grunted, lifting himself back to his knee, hands locked on either of Austria’s hips.

“Scheiße, Kaiserreich-” Austria-Hungary breathlessly gasped, planting his face back into the pillow. Kaiserreich greedily fucked into him, hard enough to back the headboard bump against the wall and creak. “Th-they’ll hear us!” Austria tried to warn, but his protests didn’t get very far when he couldn’t think straight for more than three seconds.

Kaiserreich soon granted him that decency, pulling out and stroking himself to completion. Austria panted, lifting his head from the bed, and flinched at the spurts that landed on his thighs. Silently, he turned himself on his sore lower half, watching Kaiserreich, finally able to take in his exposed body.

The German looked down at him, a warm smile on his lips as he laid down on his side beside him. “Apologies… perhaps I don’t have as much restraint as you give me credit for.”

“No, well- I did enjoy that. Even when you got so aggressive. It didn’t hurt, don’t worry.”

He waved his hands, doing his best to reassure Germany. He nodded back, eyes drawn, like a magnet, down to the sore erection Austria-Hungary was sporting. “Oh, yes… that.”

Germany grinned, sitting up in between his legs again, stroking down his thighs to the hard-on. “How could I forget? You deserve this more than anyone, Liebling.” He repeatedly the strategy he used on himself with Austria. Wetting his hand before sliding it up and down his cock. Austria-Hungary had masturbated a few times, but it had never felt like this. How predictable his own touches were, but this… this felt so much better.

Kaiserreich left more messy kisses and nips across his chest, preoccupied with marveling at his body until Austria-Hungary bucked into his hand, eyes rolling back.

Kaiserreich chuckled, tightening his grip slightly and stroking faster, pecking the bruised spot on Austria’s neck until that hard-on felt soft and drained in his hand. Austria-Hungary wiped his sweat with a bedsheet, chewing on his tongue and avoiding eye contact.

“Satisfied?” Deutschland grinned, cuddling against the smaller one.

“A hundred percent” Austria-Hungary nodded, nuzzling against the man against him.

“You know… I won’t be here when you wake?” Kaiserreich pet his head, as much as he longed to stay here, he knew that wasn’t a wise option.

“I know… and don’t worry, I’ll inform your day-side.” He grinned and winked, finally not so sheepish.

“Oh, I’d love to know how he’d react. But for now... Rest. You need it, Liebe.”

Austria-Hungary nodded, letting the fatigue claim him. The morning would be a new setting and hopefully, it meant a new lifestyle. The one Austria-Hungary really wanted.

Chapter Text

         Austria-Hungary stepped lightly through the corridors of his home, a spring in his step and an unfamiliar warmth radiating from within. The memory of Kaiserreich’s touch lingered on his skin like an invisible embrace, and his heart felt uncharacteristically light. He hummed softly,,a rare tune that seemed to mirror the rhythm of his own contentment.

As he approached the dining room, the usual scents of fresh bread, roasted coffee, and warm pastries greeted him, inviting and comforting. He entered to find his father and Vienna already seated, their expressions unusually subdued.

“Good morning,” Austria-Hungary greeted, his voice bright as he slid into his seat. He poured himself a cup of coffee, the steam curling lazily into the air. “What a fine day, isn’t it?”

Vienna offered a hesitant smile, glancing sideways at the Austrian Empire. His father, normally composed and conversational at breakfast, stared down at his cup, stirring it absently.

Austria-Hungary frowned, the cheerful bubble around him deflating slightly. “Is something the matter?” he asked, his gaze darting between the two of them.

Vienna flushed deeply, biting her lip. Her hands fidgeted in her lap before she finally met his gaze, her embarrassment written across her features. “It’s, um... nothing terrible, I suppose,” she started, her voice hesitant. “But last night, we—well, your father and I—might have overheard... something.”

Austria-Hungary froze, the coffee cup halfway to his lips. His pulse quickened, and heat rushed to his face. He set the cup down carefully, his hand trembling slightly. “Oh?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “What... what exactly did you hear?”

Vienna’s cheeks burned brighter, and she looked away, clearly struggling to find the right words.

The Austrian Empire finally spoke, his tone measured but tinged with faint discomfort. “We heard noises, son. From your room. Voices, specifically.” He paused, clearing his throat. “A,conversation, among other things.”

The room seemed to tilt slightly, Austria-Hungary’s stomach flipping as mortification washed over him. He straightened in his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he fought to maintain his composure.

Vienna jumped in quickly, perhaps sensing his distress. “We don’t know who you were talking,to, or if anyone else was even there,” she added hastily. “But, um... you weren’t exactly quiet.”

Austria-Hungary’s face burned so hot he thought he might combust. He looked down at his plate, his appetite vanishing. “I... I see,” he managed weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

His father sighed, rubbing a hand over his temples. “We’re not upset, just... surprised,” he said carefully. “And concerned. You’ve been sneaking out to the woods at night, and now this? If you’re involved with someone, we’d like to know who. For your safety, if nothing else.”

Austria-Hungary’s mind raced, torn between humiliation and a fierce instinct to protect Kaiserreich’s identity. He forced himself to take a deep breath, schooling his features into an expression of calm. “It’s nothing serious,” he lied, his voice firmer now. “Just a friend visiting. I’ll... be more careful in the future.”

Vienna didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, her expression softening. “We just want you to be careful,” she said gently. “Whoever it is, they must mean a lot to you if they’re coming all the way here at night.”

Austria-Hungary offered a weak smile, his chest tightening. They didn’t know it was Kaiserreich. They couldn’t know. Not now, not ever.

The rest of breakfast passed in an awkward, stilted silence, the weight of the conversation hanging heavily over the table. When it finally ended, Austria-Hungary excused himself quickly, retreating to his room to collect his thoughts.

As he closed the door behind him, he pressed a hand to his chest, trying to steady the erratic beat of his heart. “Kaiserreich,” he murmured under his breath, a small, rueful smile tugging at his lips. “What are you doing to me?”

Austria-Hungary shuffled back to his room, his face still warm with embarrassment as the conversation at breakfast replayed in his mind. Once inside, he leaned against the closed door, letting out a long, defeated sigh. “Of all the things they could’ve overheard...” he muttered. He crossed the room to his bed and flopped onto it, burying his face in the soft pillows. Almost immediately, he winced as a sharp, subtle pain radiated from his tailbone. A fresh wave of crimson flushed his cheeks as memories of last night returned unbidden, both mortifying and intoxicating.

“Thank you, Kaiserreich,” he muttered sarcastically into the pillow before turning over and staring at the ornate ceiling.

After a moment of stillness, he sat up and reached for his writing desk, pulling out a sheet of fine parchment and uncapping his pen. If Kaiserreich’s other personality was the one to receive this letter, Austria-Hungary would need to be both careful and thorough.

He began to write:

"Dear Kaiserreich,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, or at least as rested as one might expect. There is something I must clarify—though it may embarrass me greatly to do so.

Vienna and my father overheard noises from my room last night. They were suspicious but did not realize it was you, let alone Nachtkrapp. I assured them it was nothing serious and claimed it was merely a friend visiting. It worked, but I thought it best to warn you.

I must also add... I feel I owe you my thanks. For coming to me last night, for your warmth, and for simply being you. Despite the awkward aftermath of this morning, I can’t bring myself to regret it. Quite the opposite. I hope we can meet again soon. Until then, I will wait eagerly for your response.

Yours,

Austria-Hungary"

He reread the letter twice, ensuring it was neither too revealing nor too guarded. Satisfied, he folded the parchment carefully and sealed it with his personal stamp.

Holding the letter close to his chest for a brief moment, he sighed. “If only you were here now,” he whispered. Then, tucking the letter into his pocket, he resolved to find a courier discreet enough to deliver it without raising suspicion.

As the day stretched on, Austria-Hungary’s mind remained occupied with thoughts of Kaiserreich—his sharp words, his rare warmth, and the impossibly tangled relationship they shared. Despite the lingering embarrassment, he couldn’t help but smile.

***

Kaiserreich’s PoV:

Kaiserreich sat at his desk, the dim light of the lamp casting long shadows over the scattered papers and maps that symbolized his ever-looming responsibilities. His sharp, calculating gaze scanned the latest correspondence from various territories, each message feeling more tedious than the last. Yet his focus shifted entirely when one of his aides delivered a sealed letter bearing Austria-Hungary’s familiar stamp.

He dismissed the aide with a curt nod and broke the seal, carefully unfolding the parchment. As his eyes flicked over the first few lines, a faint smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"'Dear Kaiserreich,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, or at least as rested as one might expect. There is something I must clarify—though it may embarrass me greatly to do so.'"

He snorted softly. Embarrass him? That wouldn’t take much. But as he continued reading, his expression softened.

"'Vienna and my father overheard noises from my room last night. They were suspicious but did not realize it was you, let alone Nachtkrapp. I assured them it was nothing serious and claimed it was merely a friend visiting. It worked, but I thought it best to warn you.'"

He leaned back in his chair, twirling the pen in his fingers. "So they heard us, did they?" he muttered, amusement and irritation mingling in his tone. The thought of the prim and proper

Vienna blushing over the implication made him chuckle, though the mention of Austria’s father sent a flicker of unease through him.

"'I must also add... I feel I owe you my thanks. For coming to me last night, for your warmth, and for simply being you. Despite the awkward aftermath of this morning, I can’t bring myself to regret it. Quite the opposite.'"

The smirk faded, replaced by something closer to surprise. He traced the words with his finger as if trying to decipher Austria-Hungary’s intent. "Warmth," he murmured under his breath, the word foreign when applied to him. Nachtkrapp—or any part of him—wasn’t usually described that way.

"'I hope we can meet again soon. Until then, I will wait eagerly for your response.'"

He let out a low sigh and set the letter down on the desk, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the polished wood. His mind wandered to Austria-Hungary’s earnest gaze, the way his voice had trembled with nervous affection. It was disarming, how open the smaller nation could be.

For all his cunning and control, Kaiserreich struggled to make sense of his emotions when it came to Austria. There was a weight to the relationship now, a depth he hadn’t anticipated.

After a long pause, he picked up his pen and began to draft a response:

Austria-Hungary,

Your letter reached me swiftly, and I appreciate your concern. I must admit, the idea of Vienna and your father overhearing us amuses me more than it should. However, your discretion is noted and appreciated.

I will say this: you are far too generous in your praise. Whatever warmth you believe you’ve found in me, I assure you it is a rare occurrence. It seems to exist only when you are near—a curious fact I have yet to fully understand.

As for meeting again... it is a risk I am willing to take. Midnight, the woods. Bring your clever words and your honesty—I will bring what I can offer in return.

K.

He set the pen down and reread the letter, the faintest smile playing on his lips. Folding it carefully, he sealed it with his insignia and called for the aide to deliver it.

As the door clicked shut, Kaiserreich leaned back in his chair, staring out the window at the darkening sky. “You’re making a mess of me, Austria,” he murmured. Yet, despite the frustration in his voice, there was no denying the flicker of anticipation that burned beneath it.

***

Austria-Hungary slipped silently through the corridors of his family’s estate, his heart racing with every step. The moonlight that spilled through the windows illuminated his path, but shadows stretched like dark fingers, threatening to betray his escape. His guards were stationed in proper spots, but years of sneaking out had taught him their patterns.

With his bag slung over one shoulder and his cloak wrapped tightly around him, he ducked into the cover of the trees, moving swiftly to the clearing where Kaiserreich had agreed to meet him. His breath came in short puffs as he approached, the thrill of the risk mingling with his nervous anticipation.

There he was—Kaiserreich. He stood tall in the moonlight, his presence commanding even without the wings or the eerie glow of Nachtkrapp. His attire was sharp, and his expression was cool but curious. He turned at the sound of Austria-Hungary’s approach, his pale gaze narrowing slightly as he crossed his arms.

“You made it,” Kaiserreich said, his voice low and even. “Though I must admit, you’ve gotten better at sneaking past those guards of yours.”

Austria-Hungary offered a sheepish smile, stepping closer. “I had to. I couldn’t leave you waiting.”

Kaiserreich’s lips twitched in the semblance of a smile before he gestured to a fallen log nearby. “Sit. I want to hear what you came to say.”

Austria-Hungary hesitated, smoothing his cloak before sitting, facing Kaiserreich. “I wanted to clarify what happened that night... in my room.” He paused, his cheeks flushing at the memory.

Kaiserreich raised a brow, leaning against a nearby tree. “I assumed it was nothing more than... well, a touch more closeness than usual. Some shared affection, perhaps. Was there more to it than that?”

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his cloak. “It was more than that. We... we crossed a line.”

Kaiserreich’s expression shifted, his cool demeanor faltering as a deep blush rose to his cheeks.

“Crossed a line?” His voice dropped, the usual confidence laced with uncharacteristic hesitation.

Austria-Hungary nodded, his voice soft. “We were intimate, Kaiserreich. Fully. It wasn’t just flirtation or a kiss—it was everything.”

For a moment, the only sound between them was the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Kaiserreich’s mouth opened slightly, then closed again, as though searching for words that refused to come. Finally, he rubbed a hand over his face and let out a sharp exhale.

“I... I wasn’t aware.” His gaze darted away, his composure cracking as he processed the revelation.

“I thought you knew,” Austria-Hungary said quickly, his own embarrassment rising. “I wouldn’t have hidden it otherwise. I thought you consented, even if it wasn’t explicitly said.”

Kaiserreich’s pale eyes returned to Austria’s, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and something else—something softer. “I—I wouldn’t have allowed it if I didn’t. I... I trust you, Austria. Even when I didn’t know, part of me did.”

Austria-Hungary’s heart fluttered at those words, a sense of relief washing over him. “I care about you deeply, Kaiserreich. I wouldn’t have taken such a step if I didn’t feel it was right. But I wanted to make sure you knew the truth.”

Kaiserreich nodded slowly, the tension in his posture easing slightly. He looked down at the ground, his voice quieter. “I’m not used to this... to any of it. Sharing myself with anyone, letting them into the parts of me I don’t even understand. But I’ll admit... it’s not unwelcome.”

The admission hung in the air between them, fragile and full of meaning. Austria-Hungary reached out, his hand brushing Kaiserreich’s.

“I’m glad you don’t regret it,” Austria-Hungary said softly.

Kaiserreich met his gaze again, his lips twitching into a faint, genuine smile. “Regret is the last thing I feel.”

As the moment settled, a faint shift came over Kaiserreich. The glow of his eyes intensified, and his form began to subtly change. Feathers emerged along his hair, and his presence grew darker, more imposing, as Nachtkrapp surfaced.

“Now,” Kaiserreich said, his voice tinged with a deeper, more resonant tone. “Let’s speak no more of awkward truths tonight. Let’s focus on the present.”

Austria-Hungary smiled, his heart lighter than it had been in days. For now, it was enough. Kaiserreich’s transformation into his Nachtkrapp form was seamless yet commanding. His wings unfurled behind him, massive and dark as the night, their feathers catching the moonlight with an almost otherworldly shimmer. His presence, once cool and collected, now radiated a dangerous allure that sent shivers down Austria-Hungary’s spine—not of fear, but of fascination.

“I couldn’t resist,” Nachtkrapp Kaiserreich murmured, his voice carrying a velvety resonance. He stepped closer, his wings folding partially but still towering, framing him like a shadowy halo. “If we are to be restricted to meeting only in dreams... I wanted to see you like this, one last time. To feel your warmth, to know you’re real.”

Austria-Hungary’s breath hitched, his heart pounding as Kaiserreich closed the distance between them. His piercing gaze softened slightly, though the intensity remained. “You mean more to me than I care to admit,” Kaiserreich continued, his tone dipping into something raw, almost vulnerable. “And I’d hate myself if I didn’t come.”

Austria-Hungary’s lips parted as he searched for words, but before he could find them, Kaiserreich leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was firm yet unhurried. It was a kiss of knowing—of understanding the fleeting nature of this moment. Austria-Hungary melted into it, his hands instinctively reaching for Kaiserreich’s arms, then pausing as his fingers brushed the base of his wings.

Kaiserreich hummed in approval, his lips curving into a smirk against Austria-Hungary’s. “Don’t hold back now,” he teased, his wings extending slightly in a display of dominance and pride.

Austria-Hungary let his hands trace the soft, silken feathers at their base, marveling at their texture. “They’re... incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re the incredible one,” Kaiserreich countered, his hand cupping Austria-Hungary’s jaw as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His other hand rested at Austria-Hungary’s waist, pulling him closer, as though proximity alone could ease the ache of inevitable separation.

Their touches grew bolder, more deliberate. Kaiserreich’s lips traveled from Austria-Hungary’s mouth to his jaw, then to the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Austria-Hungary’s fingers gripped Kaiserreich’s shoulders, anchoring himself in the whirlwind of sensation.

“Tell me,” Kaiserreich murmured against his skin, his breath warm. “Do you regret any of it? The risks, the secrecy?”

“Never,” Austria-Hungary replied without hesitation, his voice breathless but certain. “Being with you... it’s worth everything.”

Kaiserreich pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, his own gaze burning with a mixture of affection and longing. “You’ve bewitched me, you know,” he admitted, a rare softness lacing his words.

Austria-Hungary smiled, his cheeks flushing. “And you’ve captivated me.”

The exchange of kisses and touches continued, their movements growing slower, more reverent. Every caress, every whispered word seemed to carry the weight of unspoken promises. Kaiserreich’s wings wrapped around them both, creating a cocoon of intimacy and warmth amidst the cool night air.

For those stolen moments, there was no Austrian Empire, no guards, no political strife—only the two of them, lost in each other. And though they both knew dawn would come all too soon, they held on to this fleeting reality with all the fervor of two souls who had found solace in each other against the odds.

Chapter Text

          Austria-Hungary found himself walking through a dreamscape that was both familiar and surreal. The cobblestone streets beneath his boots glistened as if freshly rained upon, yet the sky above was a starless void. Lanterns flickered with an otherworldly blue glow, casting shifting, shadowy patterns across the empty cityscape. And there, waiting beneath one of those spectral lights, was Kaiserreich.

The German stood tall and imposing, his features sharp against the ethereal backdrop. Though this was not the Nachtkrapp version of him—there were no wings, no ominous aura—his presence was no less magnetic. He turned toward Austria-Hungary as he approached, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

“You’re late,” Kaiserreich teased, his voice echoing with the dreamlike quality of the space.

“I’m always here as soon as I fall asleep,” Austria-Hungary countered, his tone light, though a genuine warmth crept into his words.

Kaiserreich chuckled, stepping closer until they were standing just a breath apart. “Perhaps I’m just eager to see you. Can you blame me?”

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed, and he averted his gaze, though a faint smile betrayed his delight. “You flatter me too much,” he murmured.

“Not nearly enough,” Kaiserreich replied smoothly, lifting a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from Austria-Hungary’s face. His touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his thumb grazing against his jawline.

They began to walk, as they often did in these dreams, side by side through the shifting streets.

The scenery around them morphed subtly—sometimes a quiet village square, other times a dense forest illuminated by floating lights. It was as if their shared thoughts shaped the world they traversed.

“Are your days as dull as mine?” Austria-Hungary asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Kaiserreich hummed thoughtfully. “Dull, no. Grueling, yes. Endless meetings, countless letters, and a mountain of expectations. The usual.”

Austria-Hungary chuckled softly. “At least you don’t have Vienna fussing over you every moment. She means well, but I swear she knows no boundaries.”

“She cares about you,” Kaiserreich pointed out. “More than most would dare admit aloud. You should be grateful.”

“I am,” Austria-Hungary conceded with a sigh. “It’s just... sometimes it feels suffocating.”

Kaiserreich stopped walking, turning to face him fully. “Do I suffocate you?”

Austria-Hungary’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? No! Never. You’re... you’re the opposite of that. Being with you feels like—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Like freedom.”

Kaiserreich’s expression softened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a smirk that didn’t quite mask the sincerity in his eyes, he quipped, “I must be quite the anomaly, then.”

Austria-Hungary laughed, the sound light and genuine, before looking up at him with a shy but steady gaze. “I look forward to these nights more than anything else,” he admitted quietly.

Kaiserreich’s smirk faded into a gentle smile. “So do I.”

They continued their walk, their conversation drifting from lighthearted banter to deeper musings about their respective lives. The dreamscape around them shifted again, the streets dissolving into a moonlit meadow with tall, swaying grass.

Kaiserreich stopped and turned to Austria-Hungary once more. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How this—”

He gestured to the world around them. “—feels more real than reality sometimes.”

Austria-Hungary nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s because it’s ours,” he said softly. “No one else can touch this place. No one else can touch us here.”

Kaiserreich’s smile returned, this time tinged with something deeper—gratitude, perhaps, or longing. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Austria-Hungary’s. “Then let’s make the most of it.”

And as the dream stretched on, the two of them continued to talk, to laugh, to simply exist together in their shared sanctuary, cherishing the moments that were theirs alone.

***

The meadow shimmered around them, moonlight painting their surroundings in soft silvers and blues. The gentle rustle of the tall grass was the only sound accompanying their breathing as they stood closer than they had all night.

Kaiserreich’s fingers traced along Austria-Hungary’s jawline, his touch deliberate yet tender.

"You know," he murmured, his voice dropping to a sultry tone, "you’re far too easy to fluster. It’s almost too much fun."

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed deeply, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he raised his eyes to meet Kaiserreich’s, emboldened by the dreamscape’s magic. "And you’re far too confident for your own good."

Kaiserreich smirked, his thumb brushing over Austria-Hungary’s bottom lip. "Confidence has its advantages."

Before Austria-Hungary could respond, Kaiserreich leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both firm and surprisingly gentle. The world seemed to pause for a moment, the moonlight freezing mid-glow as the two nations melted into each other.

Austria-Hungary gasped softly against his lips, his hands hesitating for just a moment before finding their place on Kaiserreich’s chest, clutching at the fabric of his coat. Kaiserreich, ever the composed one, slid his hand from Austria-Hungary’s face to the small of his back, pulling him closer with an ease that made Austria’s heart race.

“You taste like honey,” Kaiserreich whispered against his lips, his voice low and teasing.

Austria-Hungary laughed softly, breathless. "Maybe I had some before I fell asleep," he admitted, the smallest of smiles tugging at his lips.

“Good choice,” Kaiserreich murmured, leaning in to steal another kiss, this one deeper, more fervent. His hand splayed against Austria-Hungary’s back, the other cupping his cheek as he tilted his head to deepen the connection.

Austria-Hungary whimpered faintly, his knees growing weak as the heat of the moment overwhelmed him. "Kaiserreich," he breathed, pulling back just enough to catch his breath.

Kaiserreich rested his forehead against Austria-Hungary’s, his golden eyes smoldering as he looked down at him. "You’re addictive," he said softly, the confession carrying an edge of vulnerability.

Austria-Hungary smiled shyly, his fingers tracing small patterns against Kaiserreich’s chest.

"Then I guess that makes two of us," he whispered, daring to steal another kiss.

The moonlit meadow seemed to shimmer around them, the dream bending and pulsing with the intensity of their emotions as they lost themselves in each other’s presence. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt more vivid than reality itself, a testament to the bond they shared.

Kaiserreich’s hands tightened their hold, one slipping to Austria-Hungary’s waist, the other brushing through his hair. “You’re playing with fire, my dear Austria,” he teased, his lips ghosting over Austria-Hungary’s ear.

Austria-Hungary shivered, his heart pounding as he dared to respond, "Maybe I don’t mind getting burned."

The words ignited something in Kaiserreich, who captured Austria-Hungary’s lips again with a fervor that left no room for doubt about his feelings. The meadow, the moonlight, the dream—they all faded into the background as the two nations immersed themselves in the heat of the moment, their connection deeper than ever.

***

The Austrian Empire’s study was richly adorned with heavy drapes and gilded furniture, the air carrying a faint scent of aged wood and ink. Austria-Hungary sat across from his father, his heart racing as he passed over a carefully folded letter sealed with a dark red wax stamp.

His father, ever the epitome of composure, adjusted his spectacles and broke the seal. The room fell silent, save for the faint crackling of the fireplace, as the Austrian Empire read the letter.

Austria-Hungary watched intently, fidgeting with the hem of his coat. Though Kaiserreich’s words were measured and formal, the weight of the proposal felt deeply personal to him. He had read the letter multiple times before deciding to present it, each time marveling at how Kaiserreich’s poised language hinted at the passion beneath.

The Austrian Empire’s brow furrowed slightly as he reached the midpoint. "A proposed alliance," he muttered, his tone neutral. "Between you and Kaiserreich himself?"

"Yes, Father," Austria-Hungary replied, keeping his voice steady despite his nerves. "He believes a formal alliance between us could strengthen our shared interests."

His father leaned back in his chair, placing the letter on the desk. "I assume you’ve given this considerable thought," he said, his gaze sharp.

Austria-Hungary nodded. "I have. I believe Kaiserreich’s intentions are genuine, and this alliance could bring significant benefits to our relations."

The Austrian Empire tapped his fingers against the desk thoughtfully. "Kaiserreich is...a formidable figure. A bond with him would undoubtedly elevate your standing. However, such alliances often come with hidden costs."

"I understand that," Austria-Hungary said quickly, leaning forward. "But I trust him, Father. He’s proven his loyalty and sincerity to me in many ways."

The Austrian Empire raised an eyebrow. "Many ways, you say?"

Austria-Hungary faltered for a moment, realizing how personal his words sounded. He cleared his throat. "Yes. He has shown that he values my judgment and our shared history."

His father studied him for a moment, then picked up the letter again, reading the last few lines aloud.

"I seek to formalize what has long been an implicit bond between our nations. Together, we can stand stronger than ever before, ensuring not only our survival but our prosperity. I eagerly await your response, young prince."

Setting the letter down, the Austrian Empire exhaled slowly. "I’ll admit, his proposal carries merit. But tell me, is this strictly political?"

Austria-Hungary froze, his cheeks coloring slightly. "I—what do you mean?"

The Austrian Empire’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "You’ve always been transparent, my son. Your demeanor suggests this is more than diplomacy."

"Father, I assure you," Austria-Hungary began, his voice wavering slightly, "this alliance would serve our nation well. That is my primary concern."

The Austrian Empire leaned forward, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. "Very well. I’ll draft a response, but I expect you to handle this carefully. Emotions and politics are dangerous companions."

Austria-Hungary nodded, relief washing over him. As his father turned to gather writing materials, he couldn’t help but think of Kaiserreich’s words in the letter—formal yet carrying an undercurrent of warmth only he could recognize.

He vowed to handle the meeting with the same blend of tact and sincerity, knowing full well that this alliance meant far more than politics to him.

***

The room was suffocating, still, and tense. He hated being stuck this way. Needy. He could only stand so much teasing from Kaiserreich in their dreams. Same with the German just in his thoughts. Especially after that one night… that brilliant intimate night.

He palmed himself through the dress pants, not afraid of stains anymore. He was too caught up in his fantasies to worry about that.

He knew there were two different Kaiserreichs, but he couldn’t help but hope he’d get closer to the one he’d ally himself with. That didn’t necessarily mean sex, but rather just some affection and something personal. It was true that he loved every bit of Germany. But, he wanted to be sure every part of Kaiserreich loved him, too.

Austria-Hungary knew he was lucky. Kaiserreich understood his affection towards him, and he was giving him a chance to accept it… maybe even share affection himself. How worshipped he’d feel just to receive a kind word from that stoic man. He would do all a man could to impress his love interest.

But, for now… he needed some attention somewhere else. He unbuckled his belt, pulled his fly down, and unbuttoned his pants. Austria held himself, hissing lightly as he pressed a thumb against the opening at his tip. He deserved to explore himself, didn’t he? Just… as long as he didn’t get caught.

Visions of those warm black hands clawing at his back played in his head. All the slick words, the wet kisses, squeezes, and caresses. He groaned, stuffing his head in the same pillow he had that night. If only the man on his mind were here. But, love always finds a way. He’ll see

Kaiserreich tomorrow afternoon. Not to mention, a legitimate alliance- but to Austria-Hungary, that was just a bonus. He didn’t even have the throne. The alliance was all set for the future, when he did inherit the nation.

But for now, stroking himself until he fell limp was he current objective. And soon, he prayed, it would be Kaiserreich’s goal again, too.

Chapter Text

         The carriage jolted slightly as it rolled along the cobblestone path leading to the forest clearing where Austria-Hungary was set to meet Kaiserreich. He had spent the morning fidgeting, his nerves a chaotic mixture of anticipation and dread. His carefully tailored coat felt stifling, his excitement dampened by the looming presence of his father seated across from him.

The Austrian Empire’s expression was calm but unyielding, his gloved hands resting on the head of his cane. “You’re unusually restless,” he remarked, breaking the silence.

Austria-Hungary glanced at him, forcing a polite smile. “It’s just the significance of this meeting, Father. Kaiserreich’s proposals carry weight, and I want to represent us well.”

“You’ll do fine,” his father said, his tone measured. “But understand that this is not merely a discussion between friends. Kaiserreich is an ally, yes, but also a formidable player in the European theater. His ambitions could easily overshadow your own if you’re not cautious.”

Austria-Hungary bit back a retort, nodding instead. He couldn’t deny the truth in his father’s words, but he bristled at the implication. To him, Kaiserreich was more than a political force—he was a friend, a confidant, and perhaps something even deeper.

The carriage slowed as they approached the meeting point. Austria-Hungary’s heart quickened as he caught sight of a tall figure waiting by the edge of the woods. Kaiserreich stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his formal coat sharp against the natural backdrop.

The carriage came to a halt, and Austria-Hungary stepped out quickly, his boots crunching against the gravel. He forced himself to slow his pace, glancing back as his father descended with practiced ease, his imposing presence drawing Kaiserreich’s attention.

Kaiserreich’s gaze flicked between them, his expression shifting from anticipation to polite neutrality. “Your Excellency,” he said with a slight bow to the Austrian Empire. “It’s an honor to have you join us.”

The Austrian Empire returned the gesture with a nod. “Kaiserreich, your reputation precedes you. I trust this meeting will be as productive as your letter suggested.”

“Of course,” Kaiserreich replied smoothly, though his eyes lingered on Austria-Hungary for a moment, a hint of curiosity breaking through his composure.

Austria-Hungary stepped forward, his voice bright. “Kaiserreich, I hope you don’t mind the change in company. My father insisted on joining us.”

Kaiserreich’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Not at all. Diplomacy is often a family affair.”

As the three moved toward a small clearing where a makeshift table had been set up, Austria-Hungary struggled to quell his frustration. This wasn’t how he had imagined their meeting. Yet, as Kaiserreich’s subtle glances met his own, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of reassurance.

The Austrian Empire took his seat at the table, his posture commanding. “Let’s not waste time, Kaiserreich. I’d like to hear your proposal in detail.”

Kaiserreich’s gaze lingered on Austria-Hungary for a heartbeat before he shifted his focus to the Austrian Empire. “Very well,” he said, his voice calm but edged with authority.

As the conversation began, Austria-Hungary sat back, forcing himself to focus. The words exchanged were formal and precise, yet beneath them lay an unspoken tension that only he and Kaiserreich seemed to understand.

Kaiserreich opened with characteristic precision, his voice steady as he outlined his vision for their alliance. "The strength of our nations has always been our ability to adapt to the changing tides of Europe," he began, his gaze meeting the Austrian Empire's with measured intent. "I propose a partnership rooted not just in shared values but in strategic necessity. Together, we can maintain balance and prosperity while safeguarding our sovereignty against external pressures."

The Austrian Empire leaned forward, his expression thoughtful yet skeptical. "And what of the balance of power? An alliance such as this could be seen as provocation by other states. What assurances do you offer to mitigate that risk?"

Kaiserreich nodded, as though anticipating the question. "That is a valid concern, Your Excellency. However, the foundation of this alliance would not be one of dominance but mutual support. We would present it not as a threat, but as a stabilizing force. A coalition designed to ensure peace, not disrupt it."

Austria-Hungary listened intently, glancing between the two men. He could sense the weight of the discussion, but his mind was also drawn to the subtleties of Kaiserreich’s demeanor—the way his hands moved slightly as he spoke, the calm resolve in his tone.

"Peace is often a thin veil," the Austrian Empire said. "How do you propose we navigate the inevitable scrutiny of such an alliance, especially from France or Britain?"

Kaiserreich’s lips pressed into a contemplative line. "Transparency is key. We will publicize the alliance as an economic partnership first, emphasizing trade agreements and cultural exchanges. The military aspect will remain implicit, a quiet understanding between us."

"That’s clever," Austria-Hungary interjected, his voice hesitant but earnest. "It allows us to solidify our connection without drawing undue attention to the more... sensitive aspects."

Kaiserreich’s eyes flicked to him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Precisely. A united front that benefits both our people and strengthens our positions without ruffling feathers unnecessarily."

The Austrian Empire raised a brow, clearly weighing the proposal. "You’ve thought this through," he admitted, though his tone remained cautious. "But I must ask—why now? Why extend this offer to us at this moment?"

For the first time, Kaiserreich hesitated, his composure flickering just enough for Austria-Hungary to notice. "Because I believe the timing is crucial," he said carefully. "Europe is shifting, and if we do not act decisively, we risk being overshadowed by powers more eager to shape the continent’s future."

The Austrian Empire regarded him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well. Your proposal has merit, but I will need time to consider the finer details. This is not a decision to be made lightly."

"Of course," Kaiserreich replied, inclining his head. "I expected nothing less."

As the conversation paused, Austria-Hungary felt compelled to speak. "Father, if I may," he began, earning a sharp look from the Austrian Empire. "I believe Kaiserreich's intentions are genuine. This alliance could secure not just our position, but our legacy."

The Austrian Empire’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained firm. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, son, but this requires careful deliberation. Trust is earned, not given."

Austria-Hungary bit his lip, nodding, though his heart swelled with pride as Kaiserreich glanced his way, a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes.

The discussion continued with further details and contingencies, the air thick with strategy and formality. Yet beneath it all, Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but feel a deeper connection growing—a bond that transcended politics and alliances, rooted in trust and something more profound.

The Austrian Empire adjusted his monocle, leaning closer to scrutinize the document Kaiserreich had presented. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the table as his eyes traced each line with meticulous care. "A sound proposal," he murmured to himself, though his tone carried a hint of guarded skepticism.

Austria-Hungary stood abruptly, smoothing out his waistcoat. "Excuse me, I need to step away for a moment," he said, forcing a calm smile.

His father barely glanced up, absorbed in the text. "Don’t take too long, son. This is an important matter."

"I won’t," Austria-Hungary promised, bowing slightly before retreating toward the grand double doors.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Kaiserreich shifted in his chair, straightening his posture. "If you’ll excuse me as well, Your Excellency," he said, rising with practiced elegance. "I must consult briefly with my advisors to prepare for the next stage of our discussion."

The Austrian Empire waved him off distractedly, absorbed in the fine print. "Very well. Don’t keep me waiting too long."

Kaiserreich inclined his head respectfully and exited the room, his boots clicking against the polished marble floor.

***

Outside, Austria-Hungary lingered in the ornate corridor, the faint murmur of voices from the room behind him fading into the distance. His heart pounded in his chest, not from nerves about the alliance itself, but from the complex emotions swirling in his mind.

It was rare for him to be so involved in matters of state, and rarer still to find himself in such close proximity to Kaiserreich in this setting. The formalities of the discussion had felt like a thin veneer over something deeper—something personal.

As he rounded a corner, he came face to face with Kaiserreich, who had clearly been waiting for him.

"You didn’t actually need to consult anyone, did you?" Austria-Hungary asked, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Kaiserreich smirked, folding his arms across his chest. "And you didn’t need the washroom. It seems we’re both masters of subtle exits."

Austria-Hungary chuckled softly, though his gaze shifted to the floor. "I just needed a moment. To think."

"About the alliance?"

"About everything," Austria-Hungary admitted, glancing up to meet his eyes. "But yes, the alliance too. It’s… overwhelming."

Kaiserreich stepped closer, his expression softening. "You’re doing well. Better than most your age in such a position."

Austria-Hungary blinked, startled by the compliment. "I—I’m just trying to help my father. To do what’s right for my people."

"And for us," Kaiserreich added quietly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

The words lingered in the air between them, unspoken implications hanging heavily in the space. Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed, but before he could respond, Kaiserreich gestured toward the corridor.

"Come. We should return before your father grows suspicious," he said, his tone back to its usual composed self.

Austria-Hungary nodded, but as they walked side by side, he couldn’t help but feel that their alliance was already far more than a political arrangement—it was the foundation of something far more intimate and profound.

As they made their way back toward the grand meeting room, their footsteps echoed softly in the ornate corridor. The silence between them stretched, filled only with the faint sound of distant conversations and the rhythmic tap of Austria-Hungary’s shoes against the polished marble.

Kaiserreich glanced sideways, his sharp gaze lingering on Austria-Hungary’s profile. After a moment, he broke the silence. "You seem tense. Is something troubling you?"

Austria-Hungary shook his head quickly, a small smile forming on his lips. "No, not troubled. Just… thinking about everything. I’m still not sure I’ll ever feel at ease in these sorts of negotiations."

"You did well today," Kaiserreich said, his voice carrying a rare warmth. "You’re learning to navigate these situations with grace. That takes time—and courage."

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise. "You always know what to say," he murmured, glancing up at him shyly. "I’ve always admired that about you."

Kaiserreich smirked faintly but didn’t reply immediately. Instead, his hand brushed lightly against Austria-Hungary’s as they walked, a touch so brief it could have been accidental. Austria-Hungary, however, noticed, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Do you truly admire me?" Kaiserreich asked, his tone quieter now, almost testing.

Austria-Hungary faltered, glancing up at him nervously. "Of course I do. You’ve always been… someone I look up to. In more ways than I think you realize."

Kaiserreich came to a slow stop, turning to face him fully. His expression, usually unreadable, was now tinged with something softer, something more vulnerable.

"Do you ever think about us—about what we might mean to each other, beyond these alliances and politics?" he asked, his voice low but steady.

Austria-Hungary’s breath caught in his throat. "I—I have. More than I probably should," he admitted, his gaze falling to the floor.

Kaiserreich reached out, gently tilting Austria-Hungary’s chin upward so their eyes met. "You shouldn’t shy away from those thoughts. Because I’ve thought about it too."

The words were so simple, yet they carried a weight that made Austria-Hungary’s chest tighten. His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. Instead, his emotions surged, and without thinking, he stepped closer, closing the gap between them.

Kaiserreich smiled faintly, his composure returning as he leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "We can’t linger too long here. But… I wanted you to know."

Austria-Hungary nodded, his cheeks burning as he took a step back, though their proximity still felt intoxicating. "Thank you," he managed, his voice barely audible.

Kaiserreich chuckled softly, the sound rich and smooth. "Don’t thank me. Just keep doing what you’re doing. And maybe one day, we’ll figure this out—together."

With that, they resumed their walk, side by side, the distance between them smaller than ever before. Though they were heading back to the formalities of statecraft, both knew that something far more personal had begun to take shape.

The two returned to the grand meeting room, their footsteps soft against the intricate rugs adorning the polished floors. Kaiserreich opened the door for Austria-Hungary, the formalities of their surroundings quickly reminding them to shed the fleeting intimacy of their earlier exchange.

Inside, the Austrian Empire stood by the expansive table, still poring over the document that could seal their alliance.

As the pair entered, the Austrian Empire straightened and set the papers down with a thoughtful expression. "This proposal," he began, gesturing toward the document, "holds great promise. If everything proceeds as written, it could elevate Austria-Hungary’s standing significantly. Not just in Europe, but beyond."

Austria-Hungary felt a flicker of pride at his father’s words, though he remained quiet, watching as the elder man considered the terms.

"However," the Austrian Empire continued, his tone sharpening, "I must ask: where is Prussia?

This is a matter of state, and as much as I respect you, Kaiserreich, I know that Prussia is the one who ultimately oversees decisions like this."

The question hung in the air for a moment, tension seeping into the room. Austria-Hungary’s gaze shifted to Kaiserreich, whose usual composure flickered ever so slightly.

Before he could respond, the sound of a door opening at the far end of the chamber drew everyone’s attention. A tall, striking figure entered, his presence commanding without effort. His sharp features and confident stride exuded authority, and there was no mistaking who he was.

Prussia had arrived.

The air grew heavier as he stepped forward, his piercing gaze sweeping over the room before settling on the Austrian Empire. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, both disarming and calculated.

"Apologies for my tardiness," he said, his voice rich and smooth, yet carrying an edge. "I trust my younger counterpart has been handling things adequately in my absence."

Chapter Text

         Prussia’s presence dominated the room as he approached the table, his military coat impeccably tailored and his expression as cold as the winter winds. He stopped just short of the Austrian Empire, his piercing eyes locking onto the elder statesman with a quiet, intimidating authority.

"So," he began, his tone measured but unyielding, "we meet again. Though I’m sure neither of us could forget the less-than-amicable history between our nations." His gaze flicked briefly to Austria-Hungary as if acknowledging him for the first time, before returning to the Austrian Empire.

There was no warmth in his voice, no attempt at reconciliation, only the blunt reality of their shared past. Battles fought. Borders redrawn. Power struggles waged over centuries.

The Austrian Empire did not falter, meeting Prussia’s stoicism with his own measured composure. "Our history is indeed long and complicated," he said evenly, "but that is precisely why this proposal intrigues me. A united future could serve us both."

Prussia crossed his arms, his posture unrelenting. "Intriguing doesn’t mean trustworthy," he replied curtly. "There’s a difference between an alliance built on necessity and one built on genuine partnership. And necessity often breeds betrayal."

Austria-Hungary shifted uneasily, feeling the weight of Prussia’s words pressing on his chest. He had known this would be difficult, but seeing the hardened version of Kaiserreich in Prussia only reinforced just how high the stakes were.

Kaiserreich, who had remained silent until now, took a step forward, his expression softer in comparison but no less resolute. "Father," he interjected, "we’ve discussed this. A united future is a brighter future. This isn’t about the past—it’s about what we can build together. For all of us."

Prussia’s sharp eyes narrowed as he regarded Kaiserreich. "Your optimism is admirable, but optimism alone doesn’t secure a nation’s future. I need more than idealism to be convinced."

Turning back to the Austrian Empire, Prussia continued, his voice as cold as steel. "You understand what’s at stake here. An alliance like this requires absolute trust, something I don’t give lightly. Convince me this is worth it. Convince me that Austria-Hungary and his ambitions won’t crumble the moment the pressure mounts."

The room fell silent, the weight of Prussia’s challenge hanging in the air like a blade poised to strike. Austria-Hungary’s heart pounded in his chest, but he squared his shoulders, knowing that this was his chance to prove himself—not just to Prussia, but to everyone in the room.

Prussia’s sharp gaze shifted to Austria-Hungary, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if gauging the weight of the younger nation’s words. The room seemed to grow colder under his scrutiny, but Austria-Hungary stood his ground, straightening his posture and meeting Prussia’s steel gaze.

“With all due respect, Herr Prussia,” Austria-Hungary began, his tone steady but firm, “it was you and Kaiserreich who extended the invitation for this alliance. You proposed the idea of unity and collaboration, and you’re the ones who must prove that this partnership will benefit us equally.”

Kaiserreich looked at Austria-Hungary with a hint of surprise, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. He could see the determination burning in Austria-Hungary’s eyes, a rare confidence that added weight to his words.

Austria-Hungary continued, his voice unwavering despite the intimidating presence before him. “I understand the value of trust. I know the burden of forging alliances in uncertain times. But I am the future of my nation, just as your son represents the future of yours. If you’re asking for my trust, then I must ask for yours in return. This is not a one-sided arrangement.”

The room fell silent again, the tension almost tangible. Prussia’s expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—approval, perhaps, though it was buried beneath layers of stoicism.

“You’ve grown, Austria-Hungary,” Prussia said finally, his voice low and measured. “I wasn’t sure you had the backbone to stand up for yourself, let alone lead. But you’re right.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing. “If you’re to be my son’s ally, and the future of Europe, then I expect nothing less than strength and conviction. I won’t waste my time with anyone who lacks either.”

Austria-Hungary felt his heart pounding, but he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Then I hope I've made myself clear. My nation’s strength is not to be underestimated, and neither is my commitment to this partnership."

Prussia gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. “Good. Conviction is a start. But alliances aren’t built on words alone. Show me your strength in action, and I’ll consider this the beginning of something worthwhile.”

Kaiserreich stepped forward then, placing a hand lightly on Austria-Hungary’s shoulder. “You’ve already impressed him more than you realize,” he murmured, his voice warm and reassuring. “Don’t let his demeanor fool you. My father respects those who can hold their own.”

Austria-Hungary glanced at Kaiserreich, his nerves still present but eased by the comforting gesture. As intimidating as Prussia was, it seemed he had passed the first test—and perhaps gained a sliver of respect from the man who held such sway over Kaiserreich’s world.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as the Austrian Empire and Prussia naturally took the reins of the discussion. Both exuded the authority and experience of leaders who had weathered countless negotiations and conflicts. Their voices carried the weight of nations, and the subtle exchange of glances and measured tones between them signaled a delicate dance of diplomacy.

Kaiserreich stepped back slightly, his role now seemingly diminished in the presence of their fathers. Austria-Hungary mirrored him, feeling the younger generation’s precarious position in this unfolding dialogue. Whatever mutual understanding he and Kaiserreich had forged was secondary now; everything hinged on whether Prussia and the Austrian Empire could find common ground.

Prussia leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “You know as well as I do, Austrian Empire, that our nations haven’t always seen eye to eye. An alliance like this is... unconventional, to say the least. We’re not just talking about treaties here. This is about securing the future through unity—real unity. That requires more than promises on paper.”

The Austrian Empire sipped his coffee, his expression calm but calculating. “I’m aware of the risks. And yet, it was your son and my heir who initiated this proposal. Clearly, they see something worth pursuing, even if it’s unconventional. I trust my son’s instincts, but trust alone won't sway me.”

Prussia smirked faintly. “Nor me. Trust is a luxury in our line of work.” He turned his gaze toward Austria-Hungary, who tensed under the scrutiny. “Your boy has shown backbone, I’ll give him that. But it’s one thing to speak boldly and another to prove your worth in the field. What assurances can you offer me that Austria-Hungary isn’t just a green idealist?”

The Austrian Empire’s jaw tightened, his pride in his son clear despite the veiled challenge. “Austria-Hungary has been groomed for leadership from the start. He’s handled internal affairs with skill and diplomacy. And though young, he carries the weight of an empire’s expectations. He may lack the years of experience you and I have, but I wouldn’t bring him here if I doubted his capability.”

Prussia hummed thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. “Fine words. But actions speak louder.”

The tension in the room was palpable. Austria-Hungary wanted to speak up, to defend himself further, but Kaiserreich gave a subtle shake of his head, silently advising patience.

The Austrian Empire leaned back slightly, his tone softening. “You’re right, of course. Actions do matter. But I’d argue that this alliance itself would be an action worth taking. The world is changing, Prussia. We can’t afford to cling to the grudges of the past. If we want a future for our nations, for our children, we need to adapt. Together.”

Prussia’s gaze flicked to Kaiserreich, then to Austria-Hungary. His stoicism cracked just slightly, revealing a glimmer of contemplation. “Unity is a powerful thing. But power comes at a price. I’ll agree to this on one condition: that both your son and mine prove themselves capable of upholding this alliance, not just to us, but to the world.”

The Austrian Empire nodded slowly. “Agreed. They will have their chance to prove it.”

Kaiserreich and Austria-Hungary exchanged a glance, relief mingling with determination. The decision wasn’t final, but the groundwork had been laid. Their fathers would allow the alliance to proceed—but the true test lay ahead.

***

The dining room in Prussia’s grand marble estate was both imposing and serene, its walls lined with tapestries and faintly flickering candlelight. Austria-Hungary sat at a polished mahogany table set for two, the air around him quiet save for the faint clink of silverware as servants brought in steaming dishes.

Kaiserreich entered, his stride steady and his expression unreadable, dressed immaculately in dark formal wear. He nodded curtly at the servants, who swiftly exited the room, leaving the two young leaders in private. Taking his seat across from Austria-Hungary, Kaiserreich met his gaze with a level stare.

“I hope the accommodations are to your liking,” Kaiserreich began, his tone neutral but polite.

“They are,” Austria-Hungary replied, his voice soft. “Though I hadn’t expected your father to invite us to stay the night.”

“It was his decision, not mine.” Kaiserreich’s eyes briefly flicked down to his plate. “But I am... glad for the opportunity.”

Austria-Hungary blinked in surprise, glancing up from his wineglass. “You are?”

“Yes.” Kaiserreich reached for his glass of water, his movements precise and controlled. “I’ve come to realize something about our situation, Austria-Hungary. My other self—the Nachtkrapp, as you know him—has a fondness for you. An attachment, even. It’s something I cannot ignore.” Austria-Hungary stilled, his heart skipping a beat. “I see…”

Kaiserreich set his glass down, his gaze steady and unwavering. “For me, that attachment doesn’t exist. At least, not in the same way. I don’t have the memories he has of you, nor the emotional connection he does. I am not him.”

The words stung, though Austria-Hungary hadn’t expected anything else. He dropped his gaze to his plate, swallowing back a wave of disappointment.

“But,” Kaiserreich continued, his voice softer now, “that doesn’t mean I’m indifferent. The part of me that remains linked to him... it does harbor something. Perhaps it’s affection in its most dormant form, but it’s there. And I’d like to cultivate it, to understand it better.”

Austria-Hungary looked up again, startled by the unexpected honesty in Kaiserreich’s tone. Despite the stoic mask, his words carried a weight that felt genuine.

“You would?” Austria-Hungary asked hesitantly.

“I would.” Kaiserreich’s lips pressed into a faint line, his hands resting neatly on the edge of the table. “Though I will be clear: I am not a man easily moved. It will take time, and effort. But I believe you are someone worth knowing beyond the formalities of politics.”

The Austrian prince couldn’t help but smile, a mix of nervousness and relief coursing through him. “I’d like that too. I mean… getting to know you better. Outside of all this.” He gestured vaguely to the grandeur of the room and the unspoken weight of their roles.

Kaiserreich nodded, his expression softening just enough to be noticeable. “Good. Then let us begin.”

Their dinner continued with a more personal tone. Austria-Hungary shared a few light anecdotes from his childhood, and though Kaiserreich didn’t laugh, his sharp eyes seemed to hold a flicker of amusement. In turn, Kaiserreich spoke of his time training under Prussia, his upbringing, and the expectations placed upon him.

For the first time, Austria-Hungary saw a glimpse of something more behind Kaiserreich’s stoic exterior—not just a leader, but a man trying to find his own sense of balance amidst the weight of legacy and identity.

By the end of the meal, though their bond was still tentative, Austria-Hungary felt a glimmer of hope that something deeper could grow between them. Kaiserreich stood to leave, pausing at the doorway to glance back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said simply. And with that, he was gone, leaving Austria-Hungary with a mix of emotions he could scarcely begin to untangle.

As the evening drew to a close, Austria-Hungary retreated to the spacious guestroom assigned to him. The dim glow of a bedside lamp cast soft shadows across the elegantly furnished space, but despite the comfort and grandeur, his thoughts were anything but restful.

He changed into his nightclothes, the silk fabric brushing cool against his skin as he settled into the plush bed. The softness of the pillow cradled his head, but his mind remained far from the quiet needed to drift off.

Kaiserreich’s words echoed in his ears, each measured syllable replaying with startling clarity. “I believe you are someone worth knowing beyond the formalities of politics.” The sentence lingered, stirring something warm in his chest despite the stoic delivery.

Turning onto his side, Austria-Hungary gazed out the large window at the faint glimmer of moonlight filtering through the trees. The evening breeze rustled the leaves outside, carrying with it a strange sense of anticipation.

He couldn’t help but wonder: where would this new path lead? Kaiserreich had made it clear that he was not the same as his other self, yet he’d also opened a door that Austria-Hungary hadn’t expected. A chance for something real, something genuine.

And yet, doubt lingered in the corners of his mind. Could Kaiserreich truly let his guard down enough to let Austria-Hungary in? Could Austria himself manage to navigate the complexities of their connection without succumbing to his own insecurities?

The questions swirled as his eyelids grew heavy, the warmth of the blankets lulling him closer to sleep. His breathing slowed, the rhythm of his heart calming, even as his thoughts clung to the image of Kaiserreich’s stoic face.

Before long, the night enveloped him, carrying him into dreams where possibilities flickered like candlelight—fragile, yet full of hope.

Chapter Text

         Austria-Hungary stood before the ornate mirror in his guestroom, running a comb carefully through his colorful hair. Each stroke smoothed away the stubborn tangles from the night before, and he paused every so often to inspect the neatness of his part. His thoughts wandered to the night’s dreams, filled once again with fleeting glimpses of Kaiserreich—serious, steadfast, and increasingly enigmatic.

A knock at his door drew him out of his musings.

"Good morning," Kaiserreich’s unmistakable voice called from the other side, calm yet insistent.

"Breakfast is ready. Join me downstairs."

Austria-Hungary set the comb down, taking one last glance at his reflection. Satisfied with his appearance, he opened the door to find Kaiserreich standing in his usual stiff posture, hands clasped neatly behind his back.

Without waiting for an answer, Kaiserreich turned and began walking, expecting Austria-Hungary to follow.

The dining room was sunlit and inviting, the long table set with a spread of bread, cheese, fresh fruits, and steaming coffee. Kaiserreich gestured for Austria-Hungary to sit across from him.

The meal began in relative silence, save for the clinking of utensils and the occasional sound of the morning breeze rustling through the open windows.

“I trust you slept well,” Kaiserreich said after a while, his tone more conversational than formal for once.

Austria-Hungary nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Better than I expected. Your hospitality is…remarkable.”

Kaiserreich inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “It is necessary to maintain such standards. Presentation is important, whether for politics or personal matters.”

“You’re very methodical,” Austria-Hungary remarked, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“And you are very observant,” Kaiserreich replied smoothly, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

Their exchange was interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the room. Prussia and the Austrian Empire strolled in, both clad in sharp morning attire.

“Good morning, boys,” Prussia greeted, his deep voice cutting through the soft hum of conversation. His gaze briefly swept over Austria-Hungary before settling on Kaiserreich. “Hope you’re making good use of the morning.”

The Austrian Empire chimed in with a genial nod. “And good morning to you, my son. Kaiserreich.”

“Good morning, Father,” Austria-Hungary replied dutifully, straightening in his seat.

Prussia and the Austrian Empire exchanged a knowing glance before quietly moving to the adjoining room. Their voices faded into hushed conversation, leaving the two younger men alone once more. Kaiserreich returned his focus to Austria-Hungary. “As I was saying…”

Austria-Hungary’s curiosity was piqued, but he kept his composure, leaning slightly forward to listen. The air between them felt lighter, more familiar, yet still carried the weight of unspoken words.

Kaiserreich reached for a slice of bread, spreading a modest layer of butter over it before glancing up at Austria-Hungary. “So, tell me, what occupies your days? Besides politics and formalities, that is.”

Austria-Hungary chuckled softly, setting his coffee cup down. “Well, that is most of my life, truth be told. But when I can steal a moment, I enjoy the quieter things. The garden at home, music, reading. What about you?”

Kaiserreich’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “There isn’t much time for leisure in my role. However, I occasionally indulge in fencing. It’s as much for discipline as it is for enjoyment.”

“That suits you,” Austria-Hungary said, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Focused and strategic, always calculating your next move.”

“And you?” Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the jest. “Let me guess—playing the piano, losing yourself in melodies while avoiding whatever responsibilities are pressing at the moment?”

Austria-Hungary laughed, a genuine and warm sound. “You’re not wrong! Though I wouldn’t call it ‘avoiding.’ Music helps me think.”

Their conversation flowed with ease, trading small stories about their daily lives and mishaps. Kaiserreich recounted a particularly humorous incident involving a miscommunication with one of his advisors that ended with an unexpected delivery of twelve live chickens to his residence. Austria-Hungary laughed so hard he had to dab his eyes with his napkin.

“I would’ve paid to see your face!” Austria-Hungary grinned. “What did you even do with them?”

“Gave them to Prussia. He didn’t even blink.” Kaiserreich’s tone was dry, but his eyes gleamed with rare amusement. “He said they’d make fine additions to the kitchens.”

Austria-Hungary shook his head, still chuckling. “And here I thought my life was chaotic.” Kaiserreich’s expression sobered slightly, his gaze softening as it rested on Austria-Hungary.

“Your life has been chaotic of late. The assassination attempt…” His voice dropped, losing its casual edge. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Austria-Hungary’s laughter faded, replaced by a faint, uncomfortable smile. “It wasn’t the first time someone’s tried, and I doubt it will be the last. It’s a reality of our positions.”

Kaiserreich leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table. “And you speak of it so casually? As though your life is expendable?”

“No, not expendable,” Austria-Hungary said, his tone measured. “But I can’t let fear dictate everything I do. If I retreat into my home and hide, haven’t they already won?”

Kaiserreich’s jaw tightened. “And if you’re killed? What then? Do you think your father, your people, or—” He hesitated, his voice faltering. “Do you think I could simply move on as if nothing happened?”

The intensity in Kaiserreich’s eyes took Austria-Hungary by surprise, his breath hitching at the depth of emotion buried beneath that stoic exterior. “I… I didn’t realize you felt so strongly.”

“I am protective by nature,” Kaiserreich admitted, his voice steady but low. “But with you, it goes deeper. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

The room grew quiet, the faint murmur of their fathers’ conversation in the next room barely audible. Austria-Hungary reached across the table, his hand brushing against Kaiserreich’s.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised softly. “I’m not reckless, I assure you.”

Kaiserreich’s gaze lingered on their hands before he nodded, though his expression remained serious. “Good. Because if anyone threatens you again, they will face me. And I assure you, they won’t find me so easy to cross.”

Austria-Hungary felt warmth spread through his chest, the protectiveness in Kaiserreich’s words somehow both grounding and exhilarating. For the first time, he realized just how much this man cared—and how deeply it resonated within him.

Kaiserreich leaned back slightly in his chair, studying Austria-Hungary with that ever-calculating gaze. “By the way,” he began, his tone almost casual but carrying an undercurrent of intent, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Your stomach cramps—have they subsided?”

Austria-Hungary blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the shift in topic. “Oh, those? Yes, they’re mostly gone now. They always seemed to crop up when I had to attend larger gatherings or meet new people. I assumed it was just anxiety.”

Kaiserreich’s lips quirked into a faint, knowing smirk. “Anxiety, you think?” He took a sip of his tea, his eyes sharp yet unreadable.

“Well, what else could it be?” Austria-Hungary frowned, genuinely puzzled by Kaiserreich’s tone. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Kaiserreich set his cup down with a deliberate precision, his gaze locking onto Austria-Hungary’s. “Not entirely. I’ve observed you enough to know you’re nervous in new situations, yes, but this was… different. Physical, not mental.”

Austria-Hungary tilted his head, his confusion deepening. “Different how?”

“That’s for you to discover.” Kaiserreich’s tone was maddeningly cryptic, his smirk widening just a fraction. “But rest assured, it wasn’t anxiety.”

Austria-Hungary opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, realizing he wasn’t going to get a straight answer. “You’re infuriating sometimes, you know that?”

Kaiserreich chuckled softly, a rare sound that sent a small thrill through Austria-Hungary. “Perhaps. But you seem to tolerate me regardless.”

Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the last of his coffee. Whatever Kaiserreich’s implication was, it could wait—though the nagging curiosity lingered.

As breakfast wrapped up, the two of them rose, Kaiserreich gesturing for Austria-Hungary to follow him out of the dining hall. “We should prepare for departure. Your father and mine will likely want to leave before noon.”

“Of course,” Austria-Hungary agreed, though his steps slowed as they exited the room.

“Kaiserreich…”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” Austria-Hungary said softly. “For breakfast, for… everything. I don’t say it often enough.”

Kaiserreich turned to look at him, his expression uncharacteristically warm. “There’s no need for thanks. I enjoy your company, Austria.”

Austria-Hungary felt his cheeks heat at the sincerity in Kaiserreich’s voice, and he quickly looked away, muttering something about needing to gather his belongings. Kaiserreich simply watched him for a moment, a small, almost imperceptible smile on his lips, before turning to head toward his own quarters.

As they both began to pack for the journey back, Austria-Hungary found himself humming softly under his breath, his mind swirling with thoughts of Kaiserreich’s cryptic words and the quiet intimacy they had shared over breakfast. Whatever lay ahead, he felt a strange and comforting certainty that their bond would only continue to deepen.

The Austrian Empire and Austria-Hungary stepped into the carriage, the ornate vehicle gleaming under the late morning sun. The horses shifted restlessly as the driver adjusted his reins, waiting for the final farewells to be exchanged.

Prussia stood rigid near the carriage door, his hands clasped behind his back, his piercing gaze flickering between Austria-Hungary and the Austrian Empire. Kaiserreich lingered just a step behind his father, his expression more neutral but with a faint softness reserved for Austria-Hungary.

Prussia inclined his head toward the Austrian Empire, his words clipped and formal. “We wish prosperity for this alliance. May it serve our nations well and strengthen Europe’s foundation for decades to come.”

The Austrian Empire nodded, a polite but firm smile on his lips. “Indeed. Our shared efforts shall lead us to stability.”

Prussia then turned his attention to Austria-Hungary, his sharp gaze settling on the young prince like a blade. “And you, Austria-Hungary… Stay safe. The world is treacherous for someone in your position. Guard yourself well.”

Austria-Hungary straightened under the scrutiny, nodding earnestly. “Of course, Herr Prussia. I will.”

Prussia’s stern demeanor didn’t waver, though a ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “And do heal that odd bruise on your neck. It’s unbecoming of a diplomat.”

Austria-Hungary froze, his face flushing a brilliant crimson. His hand instinctively flew up to the side of his neck, brushing against the faint soreness of the mark Kaiserreich had left the night before. He stammered incoherently, unable to form a coherent response.

Kaiserreich stepped forward with an ease that seemed almost calculated, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Ah, Vater, surely it’s not unusual for a young man to have a few marks from his endeavors. Perhaps a stray tree branch in the woods or a poor angle while riding horseback?”

Prussia’s smirk widened just a fraction, his gaze sliding back to Austria-Hungary. “Perhaps. But remember, appearances matter.”

Austria-Hungary wished the ground would swallow him whole. The Austrian Empire raised an eyebrow at the exchange but said nothing, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in faint amusement.

Kaiserreich’s hand brushed lightly against Austria-Hungary’s as he helped him step into the carriage, a silent reassurance amidst the mortifying ordeal. As the door shut, Austria-Hungary dared a final glance at Kaiserreich, who offered him a subtle, almost mischievous smile.

The carriage jolted forward, and Austria-Hungary slumped into his seat, groaning softly as he buried his face in his hands. “Could this day possibly get any more embarrassing?”

The Austrian Empire chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Ah, the trials of youth. Worry not, my son. These are the moments you’ll laugh about in the years to come.”

Austria-Hungary peeked through his fingers, his cheeks still flushed. Somehow, he doubted that.

Chapter Text

         The dreamscape unfolded around Austria-Hungary, a vivid blend of twilight and golden hues. Soft grass cushioned his feet, and a serene lake shimmered in the distance under a sky speckled with endless stars. The air carried a sense of warmth and intimacy that felt uniquely familiar, drawing a smile from his lips.

“Enjoying the view?” came Kaiserreich’s unmistakable voice, smooth and rich with a teasing lilt.

Austria-Hungary turned to find him standing nearby, dressed in a loose, open-collared shirt that seemed entirely out of character for his usual stoic self. His sharp features softened by the warm light, Kaiserreich looked impossibly handsome.

“I am now,” Austria-Hungary quipped, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He folded his arms and tilted his head. “You took your time.”

Kaiserreich stepped closer, a faint grin playing at the edges of his mouth. “I like to make an entrance. Besides, you seemed preoccupied with admiring the scenery.”

Austria-Hungary rolled his eyes, though his heart raced as Kaiserreich closed the distance between them. “You are impossible,” he muttered.

“And yet, here you are,” Kaiserreich countered, his voice dropping to a low murmur. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Austria-Hungary’s face with deliberate care. The touch sent a shiver down Austria-Hungary’s spine, his breath hitching at the closeness.

Without warning, Kaiserreich leaned in, his lips capturing Austria-Hungary’s in a kiss that was both commanding and tender. Austria-Hungary melted into the sensation, his arms instinctively wrapping around Kaiserreich’s neck as the kiss deepened. The world around them seemed to blur, leaving only the heat of their connection and the intoxicating taste of one another.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads pressed together. “You’re not bad at this,” Kaiserreich teased, his tone lighter than usual.

Austria-Hungary laughed softly, his fingers trailing along Kaiserreich’s jaw. “Neither are you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Kaiserreich smirked and suddenly tugged Austria-Hungary backward, sending them both tumbling onto the soft grass. Austria-Hungary let out a startled laugh as Kaiserreich pinned him beneath his weight, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Wrestling now, are we?” Austria-Hungary challenged, his cheeks flushed but his grin defiant.

“You did say you wanted to know me better,” Kaiserreich retorted, his voice a sultry purr.

“Consider this part of the experience.”

Austria-Hungary squirmed beneath him, their laughter mingling as they wrestled playfully. He managed to flip Kaiserreich onto his back, straddling him with a triumphant grin. “Not so untouchable now, are you?”

Kaiserreich chuckled, his hands resting lightly on Austria-Hungary’s hips. “Enjoy your victory while it lasts.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Austria-Hungary replied, leaning down to brush his lips against Kaiserreich’s in a teasing kiss. Kaiserreich growled softly in response, his hands tightening their hold as he pulled Austria-Hungary closer.

Their kisses grew hungrier, their touches more fervent as the dreamscape around them seemed to pulse with their energy. Fingers tangled in hair, lips explored necks, and soft gasps escaped between kisses. Austria-Hungary could feel the heat radiating from Kaiserreich, matching his own burning desire.

The playful wrestling gave way to something deeper, their movements slowing as they focused on each other’s touch and presence. Kaiserreich’s hands trailed down Austria-Hungary’s back, eliciting a shiver as their lips met again and again, each kiss more intoxicating than the last.

“You drive me mad,” Kaiserreich murmured against Austria-Hungary’s lips, his voice thick with emotion.

“Likewise,” Austria-Hungary replied, his breath hitching as Kaiserreich’s lips found the sensitive skin of his neck.

The dreamscape seemed to wrap them in its warmth, a cocoon of stars and soft whispers as they lost themselves in each other, the weight of reality melting away in the glow of their shared connection.

.

.

.

The dreamscape shimmered like a watercolor painting, blending shades of twilight with the golden glow of distant stars. The soft hum of a breeze rustled through the meadow, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers and the warmth of their shared presence. Austria-Hungary stood beneath the towering oak tree, his cheeks flushed as Kaiserreich’s arms remained locked around his waist.

“You’re too good at this,” Austria murmured, his voice a mix of nervous laughter and undeniable affection. Kaiserreich’s smirk widened, his amber eyes glinting with playful mischief.

“Good at what, exactly?” he teased, leaning closer until their foreheads nearly touched. “Holding you? Or making you blush?”

Austria’s breath hitched, and he lightly swatted Kaiserreich’s chest. “Stop being so smug.”

Kaiserreich chuckled, his laughter low and smooth as his hands slid up Austria’s back. “I’ll stop when you stop being so easy to tease,” he countered before leaning in to brush his lips against Austria’s again. The kiss deepened slowly, passion building like a rising tide.

Their movements grew bolder, more certain. Austria’s fingers fumbled slightly as they found the edges of Kaiserreich’s jacket. With deliberate care, he slid it from the German’s shoulders, letting it fall into the soft grass below. Kaiserreich reciprocated by tugging gently at Austria’s cravat, his fingers deftly loosening the knot until it came free.

“You’re beautiful,” Kaiserreich whispered against Austria’s lips, his tone sincere and reverent.

Austria’s blush deepened, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head, granting Kaiserreich more access as their kisses grew more fervent.

Buttons and fabric became less of a barrier with each passing moment. Austria shivered as the cool air brushed his skin, his shirt slipping from his shoulders as Kaiserreich’s hands roamed across his back. The German’s touch was both firm and tender, eliciting a soft sigh from Austria as their bodies pressed closer together.

Kaiserreich’s jacket and shirt joined Austria’s on the ground, their clothing forming a scattered

tapestry around them. The warmth of their skin against each other ignited a fire that had been simmering between them for what felt like an eternity. Austria’s hands trailed over Kaiserreich’s chest, marveling at the strength he felt beneath his fingertips.

“You’re trembling,” Kaiserreich murmured, his lips ghosting along Austria’s jawline before moving to his neck. “Cold?”

Austria shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… just overwhelmed.”

Kaiserreich paused, pulling back just enough to look Austria in the eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his tone serious but gentle.

“No,” Austria replied quickly, his hands gripping Kaiserreich’s arms. “I trust you.”

The words seemed to ground them both, their connection deepening as they continued to explore each other. The dreamscape around them pulsed with life, the stars shining brighter as if celebrating their union. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word carried the weight of their unspoken promises.

They lost themselves in each other, the barriers between them dissolving until nothing remained but the raw, unfiltered truth of their feelings. For a moment, the world felt infinite, a timeless space where only they existed, bound together by a love that transcended reality.

***

The dreamscape seemed to hum around them, time itself slipping away as Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich lingered in their closeness. The moonlight cut through the familiar mist that clung to their surroundings, casting faint silver trails across their tangled forms. Their breaths were shallow, shared as though the air itself belonged to them and no one else.

Kaiserreich, usually composed even in his softer moments, looked completely at ease for once. He hovered over Austria-Hungary, his expression gentler than it ever was in his waking life. The faintest hint of a smile graced his lips as he brushed a lock of hair away from Austria's flushed face.

"You always look so much smaller like this," Kaiserreich murmured, though there was no malice in the observation—only fondness.

Austria-Hungary let out a soft huff of protest, his hands reaching up to tug at Kaiserreich’s collar playfully. “And you always think you’re so much bigger,” he replied, teasing despite the heat still lingering in his cheeks.

Kaiserreich chuckled—a rare, genuine sound that Austria-Hungary cherished. He allowed himself to relax completely, his weight pressing into Austria-Hungary as though he trusted the younger man to hold him up in some unspoken way.

“Maybe I do.” He tilted his head down, his nose brushing Austria’s cheek. “But perhaps you like that.”

Austria-Hungary’s blush deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned his face slightly to meet Kaiserreich’s gaze, their eyes locking in the dreamlike stillness of the world they shared.

“I do,” Austria admitted softly, the confession slipping past his lips before he could stop it. “I like this… being with you. Here. Wherever we are.”

Something shifted in Kaiserreich’s expression, like a shield lowering just a fraction more. He cupped Austria-Hungary’s face, his thumb brushing across the soft curve of his cheek as though committing every detail to memory.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble of honesty.

Austria-Hungary frowned, reaching up to take hold of Kaiserreich’s wrist. “Don’t say that,” he insisted, more fiercely than he intended. “I chose this, and I choose you. I don’t know everything about you—I know that. But what I do know…” He faltered for a moment, searching for the right words. “What I do know is enough.”

Kaiserreich stared at him for a long moment, his golden eyes searching Austria-Hungary’s face as though trying to see whether he meant it—whether he understood the weight of what he said.

Finally, his gaze softened further, and he dipped his head to press a lingering kiss to Austria-Hungary’s forehead.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Kaiserreich murmured against his skin, though his tone carried no real reproach. “But I think… I think I need that.”

Austria-Hungary smiled faintly, closing his eyes as he relaxed completely beneath Kaiserreich’s care.

For what felt like hours, they simply lay together, exchanging soft kisses, whispered words, and the kind of quiet intimacy that didn’t require anything more than presence. Kaiserreich eventually pulled Austria closer against his chest, his wings curling protectively around them both like a shelter against the rest of the world.

“Stay here a little longer,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice softer now, a trace of vulnerability hiding beneath it. “Just until you have to wake up.”

Austria-Hungary, tucked securely in Kaiserreich’s hold, nodded against his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And so, the two of them remained wrapped up in each other, the dream carrying them in its quiet, unbroken serenity. For Austria-Hungary, there was no need to worry about what awaited him outside of this place—the waking world, the politics, or the pressures of his father’s expectations. Here, in Kaiserreich’s arms, he could simply be himself.

As the dream began to shift and fade around the edges, Austria-Hungary felt the familiar tug of waking. Kaiserreich’s hold on him tightened just slightly, as though to keep him there for a moment longer.

“Until tonight,” Kaiserreich said softly, the edges of his voice already beginning to blur.

Austria-Hungary opened his eyes to meet Kaiserreich’s golden gaze one last time before the dream dissolved completely.

“Until tonight,” he echoed.

When Austria-Hungary finally awoke, the morning light filtering through his curtains, he lay there for a long while, staring up at the ceiling as his heart swelled with a feeling he couldn’t quite name. A smile tugged at his lips as he touched his fingers to his forehead, remembering where Kaiserreich had kissed him.

“Until tonight,” he whispered to himself, the words lingering in the air like a promise.

***

The morning sun filtered through the grand windows of the drawing room, casting delicate patterns on the rich burgundy carpet. The Austrian Empire sat in his usual high-backed chair, dressed immaculately as always, though his brows were furrowed in uncharacteristic contemplation. Vienna sat nearby on the elegant divan, her hands folded neatly in her lap, while across from them sat the Hungarian Empire, finally visiting from Budapest after what felt like ages. His presence, as always, filled the room with a kind of magnetic energy, commanding attention even in silence.

“You’ve been quiet, my love,” Hungarian Empire remarked to his husband, his deep voice breaking the thoughtful stillness. “I hope you didn’t summon me all this way just to sit and brood.”

The Austrian Empire looked up sharply, though a small, affectionate smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I would never invite you here only to brood. Vienna and I both missed your presence.”

Vienna nodded in agreement, her face lighting up with her usual kindness. “It’s been far too long since you’ve come to Vienna’s walls, sir. We’re both glad you’re here.”

Hungarian Empire gave a warm smile to Vienna before turning his sharp gaze back to Austrian Empire. “Still, something is on your mind. You’re not the type to summon someone across the continent for no reason. Speak plainly.”

Austrian Empire exhaled deeply, the weight of his thoughts finally surfacing. He leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingers against the carved wooden armrest. “It’s Austria-Hungary.”

Hungarian Empire arched a brow, his interest piqued immediately. “What about him?”

“I’m worried,” Austrian Empire admitted, his voice low. “Worried about his behavior. He’s grown distant lately—restless, perhaps. You know how he can be, prone to his romanticism and ideas… but this feels different.”

Vienna nodded as well, chiming in softly. “His moods have been unpredictable. I’ve caught him sneaking out at night more than once—always claiming he’s just seeking fresh air, but…” She hesitated, her brow creasing. “There’s something he isn’t telling us. He’s distracted, even during the political events we’ve arranged for him. His mind is elsewhere.”

Hungarian Empire leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze sharp and calculating. “Has something happened? Did he say anything in particular?”

Austrian Empire shook his head, his tone both frustrated and resigned. “Not exactly. He says all the right things—that he’s fine, that he’s focusing on his responsibilities. But I see it in his eyes, my dear. Something’s shifted within him. I fear…” He trailed off, unwilling to give voice to his more dire concerns.

Hungarian Empire’s expression darkened as he leaned back, fingers steepled in thought. “You fear he’s being manipulated. Or worse.”

Vienna visibly flinched, as though the words carried a physical weight. “Let’s not jump to such conclusions,” she murmured, trying to maintain optimism. “But something—or someone—is influencing him. He’s a young nation, after all. Still finding his way in this new world.”

“Finding his way is one thing,” Austrian Empire countered firmly, “but disappearing into the night without a word? Returning looking… disheveled? His behavior is far too reckless for my liking.” His voice hardened, the stern fatherly edge slipping into his tone. “He is the future of our empire. I won’t have him compromised by foolish infatuations or distractions.”

Hungarian Empire frowned, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “And you suspect this has to do with… Kaiserreich.”

The name hung in the air like an unspoken secret, heavy and undeniable. Vienna stiffened at the mention of it, exchanging a wary glance with Austrian Empire.

“Yes,” Austrian Empire admitted finally, his tone grave. “I’ve heard whispers of their interactions. I know they’ve been… meeting. I thought at first it was innocent. Two young nations strengthening ties. But now…” He paused, shaking his head. “Now, I wonder if it’s more than that. Kaiserreich is dangerous, even if he hides it well. He is his father’s son.”

Hungarian Empire’s jaw tightened at the mention of Prussia. “And what do you plan to do?”

“For now, I’m watching him,” Austrian Empire replied. “I won’t confront him until I have to. But if this continues—if he doesn’t come to his senses—I will have no choice but to step in.”

Vienna sighed softly, her voice a gentle balm amidst the tension. “He loves you both. He doesn’t mean to make you worry. Perhaps he simply needs guidance… gentle guidance.”

Hungarian Empire turned his sharp gaze to Vienna, though there was no harshness in it. “Guidance is all well and good. But he is no child. If he is to lead one day, he must learn to be strong. If he’s fraternizing with someone like Kaiserreich, it’s not just his heart at stake. It’s his future.”

Austrian Empire nodded solemnly, his shoulders heavy with the weight of leadership and fatherhood alike. “Exactly. Which is why we must tread carefully. I will not let him jeopardize all that we have built.”

For a moment, the room fell silent again, save for the faint ticking of the ornate clock on the mantle. Finally, Hungarian Empire stood, smoothing out the coat of his fine attire.

“Very well,” he said, his voice calm but resolute. “Keep watching him. But don’t be too harsh. If you push too hard, you might just lose him.”

Austrian Empire looked up at his husband, something soft flickering in his gaze. “I know. I just wish…” He sighed, shaking his head. “I wish he understood how much I want to protect him.”

Vienna rose as well, placing a gentle hand on Austrian Empire’s shoulder. “He will, in time. You know how he is. Stubborn, but loyal. He will come back to you.”

Austrian Empire reached up to pat her hand, though his expression remained pensive. “I hope you’re right, Vienna. For all our sakes.”

Hungarian Empire lingered by the window, gazing out over the city beyond. “Just don’t underestimate him. Or Kaiserreich. The tides are changing, my dear. For better or worse.”

And with that ominous thought lingering in the air, the conversation ended. But the Austrian Empire’s worry remained, gnawing at the edges of his mind, like shadows creeping ever closer to the light.

Chapter Text

          The morning sun spilled across the fine oak floors of the estate, golden and soft. Hungarian Empire—with his rugged demeanor and a wry smile that betrayed centuries of both battle and revelry—leaned back in his chair, sipping a steaming mug of black coffee. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he regarded the Austrian Empire sitting opposite him at the breakfast table, his regal posture unchanged despite the casual setting. Vienna stood nearby, graceful as ever, replenishing their plates with buttery pastries and thinly sliced smoked meats.

"He seems more... distracted these days," Austrian Empire admitted, cutting into a delicate strudel. His tone was mild, but the creases on his forehead revealed deeper concern.

Hungarian Empire chuckled, setting his mug down with a clink. "Ah, you mean our dear boy? He’s at that age, you know. Caught somewhere between politics and... other matters."

Vienna smirked softly, folding her hands in front of her apron. "Other matters, indeed. He’s been glowing lately, but it’s as if his thoughts are leagues away."

Hungarian Empire leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, ever the contrast to Austrian Empire’s more rigid posture. "I have an idea that might help clear up those thoughts—or focus them." His voice was teasing but earnest. "Why not invite that Kaiserreich fellow for a proper visit? Let’s see what he’s really made of."

Austrian Empire frowned, his knife hovering over his plate. "Kaiserreich? You mean Germany’s boy? We’ve only just begun formal discussions. A weeklong visit seems... excessive."

Hungarian Empire raised a brow. "Oh, come now. If they’re serious about this alliance, wouldn’t it be wise to observe him more closely? And if there’s something between him and our boy, better we know the truth sooner rather than later."

Vienna’s smile faded into something more thoughtful. "The Hungarian Empire does have a point, Your Imperial Majesty. Kaiserreich’s presence could be enlightening. And if nothing else, it’s a chance for the two nations to grow familiar on more than just formal terms."

Austrian Empire sighed deeply, resting his utensils on the plate. He looked between Vienna’s calm insistence and Hungarian Empire’s persuasive grin before nodding reluctantly. "Fine. But if anything goes amiss—and I mean anything—I will hold you personally accountable."

Hungarian Empire laughed, raising his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Naturally. That’s the Hungarian way, after all."

***

An hour before Kaiserreich’s arrival, Austrian Empire broke the news to Austria-Hungary, who had been sitting in the garden with a book, enjoying the quiet of the late morning.

"What? Kaiserreich is coming here?" Austria-Hungary nearly dropped the book in his lap as he looked up in wide-eyed surprise.

"For a week," Austrian Empire confirmed, his tone calm but firm. "Hungarian Empire invited him. It’s an excellent opportunity to further our relations, both personal and political."

Austria-Hungary’s heart leapt into his throat. A week. A whole week with Kaiserreich. The thought was both thrilling and utterly terrifying. But the excitement quickly turned to panic as he glanced down at his plain morning attire and then toward the unkempt state of the nearby garden path.

"When will he arrive?" Austria-Hungary asked, a little breathless.

"Within the hour," Austrian Empire said, adjusting his gloves. "Try not to make a spectacle."

But Austria-Hungary was already on his feet, abandoning his book on the chair as he dashed inside. His mind raced with a million thoughts. What should he wear? Should he greet Kaiserreich alone or wait for his father? Would the estate look perfect enough?

He hurried to his room, where a trusted servant, Marianne, helped him choose a crisp new outfit. After much debate, they settled on a deep burgundy waistcoat over a clean white shirt, paired with black trousers that accentuated his slender figure. His hair, often rebellious, was combed neatly, though a stray curl refused to be tamed. He checked himself in the mirror, adjusting the collar, smoothing invisible wrinkles, and straightening his cuffs until Marianne gently took his hands to stop him.

"You look perfect, sir," she assured him with a warm smile.

Austria-Hungary gave her a grateful nod, though his nerves still simmered beneath the surface.

***

The sound of wheels on gravel announced Kaiserreich’s arrival. Austria-Hungary stood on the front steps of the grand estate, his father and Hungarian Empire flanking him. His heart pounded as the carriage came to a stop, and the door opened to reveal Kaiserreich, stepping down with his usual stoic grace.

His uniform was immaculate, the gold accents catching the sunlight as he approached. His expression was reserved, but his eyes softened ever so slightly when they landed on Austria-Hungary.

"Your Imperial Majesties," Kaiserreich greeted with a polite bow to Austrian Empire and

Hungarian Empire. Then he turned to Austria-Hungary, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. "Austria-Hungary."

Austria-Hungary’s breath hitched. "Kaiserreich. Welcome."

The moment was brief but charged, their gazes holding for just a beat too long before Hungarian Empire clapped a hand on Kaiserreich’s shoulder, breaking the spell.

"Come inside," Hungarian Empire said warmly. "There’s much to discuss and plenty of time to make yourself comfortable."

Kaiserreich inclined his head, following the group into the estate. As they walked, he cast a sidelong glance at Austria-Hungary, who caught his eye and quickly looked away, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. The week ahead promised challenges, revelations, and—if Austria-Hungary’s heart had any say in it—moments he would treasure forever.

The conversation shifted as the Austrian Empire leaned forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Kaiserreich. The atmosphere grew heavier as the elder statesman began his subtle interrogation.

“Kaiserreich,” AE began, his voice polite but firm, “it’s rare for me to allow visitors to stay in our home. I hope you understand the weight of such hospitality.”

Kaiserreich nodded, setting his cup of tea down gently. “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty. I’m honored by the invitation and your trust.”

“Trust is earned,” AE replied, his tone measured. “Tell me, what are your true intentions in pursuing an alliance with my son? Surely this is more than a convenient political arrangement.”

Austria-Hungary winced slightly, glancing between his father and Kaiserreich. He wanted to jump in but knew this was a moment for Kaiserreich to prove himself. Kaiserreich, for his part, remained composed, his expression unreadable.

“My intentions,” Kaiserreich said carefully, “are to ensure a prosperous and secure future for both our nations. Austria-Hungary is the cornerstone of Central Europe. An alliance would strengthen both of our positions in these volatile times.”

“And what of my son?” AE pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “He isn’t just a nation to be bargained with. He’s young, still finding his footing in this world.”

Kaiserreich’s gaze flicked to Austria-Hungary for the briefest moment, then back to AE. “I’m aware of that, Your Imperial Majesty. I don’t see Austria-Hungary as merely a political partner. I see him as someone with immense potential, someone I respect. I believe he has the ability to lead and shape a brighter future.”

AE studied Kaiserreich intently, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his chair.

“Respect is one thing,” he said, his voice soft but piercing. “But my son is more than a leader.

He is a person, one with emotions, vulnerabilities, and strengths. Can you say with certainty that you would prioritize his well-being, even if it came at the cost of your ambition?”

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed as he sat up straighter. “Father, that’s enough—”

“No,” Kaiserreich interrupted gently, holding up a hand to stop him. His eyes locked with AE’s. “I can say that with absolute certainty. Austria-Hungary is more than a future ally to me. He’s someone I care deeply for. If it came to it, I would put his well-being above any political aspiration.”

AE’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained guarded. “And if this... attachment you have were to jeopardize the alliance? What then?”

Kaiserreich’s jaw tightened, but he remained steadfast. “Then I would still honor the alliance, because it’s what’s best for our nations. But I assure you, Your Imperial Majesty, I have no intention of letting personal matters interfere. On the contrary, I believe our connection strengthens our bond.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Vienna, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up, her voice light but firm. “Father, I think we’ve established that Kaiserreich has both political and personal reasons for being here. Perhaps it’s time we let them enjoy each other’s company?”

AE hesitated, then sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Very well. But understand this,” he said, looking directly at Kaiserreich. “My son’s happiness means everything to me. If I sense any harm—intentional or otherwise—this arrangement ends. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear,” Kaiserreich replied, his voice steady and sincere.

AE nodded, finally relenting. Austria-Hungary exhaled quietly, relieved that the interrogation had come to an end. As Kaiserreich turned to meet his gaze, a small smile tugged at his lips, and Austria-Hungary felt a warmth spread through his chest.

“Shall we take a walk in the gardens?” Austria-Hungary asked, his voice brighter now.

Kaiserreich inclined his head. “I’d like that.”

As they rose and left the room, AE watched them go, his expression unreadable. Vienna leaned over, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re doing the right thing,” she said softly. “He’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” AE murmured, his gaze lingering on the door.

Austria-Hungary led Kaiserreich through the sprawling gardens, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of roses and lavender. The younger nation moved with an energy that betrayed his excitement, though he occasionally glanced back to make sure Kaiserreich was keeping pace.

“I’m sorry about my father,” Austria-Hungary said, his voice soft but sincere. “He can be... intense.”

Kaiserreich’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “I’ve faced worse interrogations, believe me. Your father’s questions were understandable. He wants what’s best for you.”

Austria-Hungary stopped, turning to face Kaiserreich fully. “And you? What do you want?”

Kaiserreich hesitated for a moment, his steely demeanor cracking just enough to let a flicker of vulnerability shine through. “I want to know you better,” he said finally. “Not just as a leader or a potential ally, but as you. The person who dreams of music, who speaks with so much conviction, who—” he stopped himself, shaking his head. “I mean what I said to your father. I care for you, Austria.”

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed, and he quickly turned back toward the path, pretending to inspect a bush of blooming white roses. “You’ve always been so composed, so sure of yourself. Hearing you say things like that—it’s strange.”

“Strange?” Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “How so?”

Austria-Hungary glanced over his shoulder, his lips curving into a small smile. “I never expected someone like you to say such personal things. You always seemed so... untouchable.”

Kaiserreich chuckled, a low, warm sound. “Untouchable, hm? That’s a first.”

The two continued walking, their conversation drifting to lighter topics. Austria-Hungary told stories of his childhood—of sneaking into the kitchens with Vienna to steal sweets, of his first disastrous attempts at riding a horse. Kaiserreich, in turn, shared tales from his early days, including a particularly amusing account of getting lost in his own capital during a parade.

By the time they reached the center of the garden, laughter had softened the tension between them. They sat on a stone bench beneath an arch of ivy, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. For a moment, they simply enjoyed the quiet, the distant chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Then Kaiserreich’s expression grew more serious. “About what your father said earlier... the assassination attempt. Have there been any new threats?”

Austria-Hungary shook his head. “No, not since then. But my father is still cautious. That’s why he’s been keeping such a close eye on me.”

Kaiserreich’s gaze hardened, and his hand tightened slightly on the edge of the bench. “He’s right to be cautious. You’re more vulnerable than you realize, Austria. There are those who would see you fall, who would take advantage of your youth and position.”

Austria-Hungary frowned, his lighthearted demeanor fading. “I know that. I’ve been trying to prove that I’m not as fragile as everyone thinks.”

“It’s not about fragility,” Kaiserreich said, his voice firm but not unkind. “It’s about being prepared. And until you have the power and influence to protect yourself, you’ll need to rely on those around you—like your father, Vienna, and...” He hesitated, then added, “me.”

Austria-Hungary’s eyes softened, and he reached out to touch Kaiserreich’s hand. “I do trust you, you know. And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done—for standing by me.”

Kaiserreich looked down at their joined hands, his expression unreadable. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible smile, he said, “You’re worth standing by.”

They sat there for a while longer, neither of them speaking, content to share the moment. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky when the sound of footsteps on the gravel path broke the silence.

Vienna appeared, her expression apologetic. “Your father sent me to fetch you both. Dinner is being served.”

Austria-Hungary sighed, reluctantly standing. “Duty calls, I suppose.”

Kaiserreich rose as well, offering him a faint smile. “We’ll have more time to talk later.”

As they walked back toward the house, Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but steal a glance at Kaiserreich. The older nation’s composed exterior was as steadfast as ever, but there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. For the first time in a long while,

Austria-Hungary felt truly hopeful about the future—both for their alliance and for whatever might grow between them.

***

The dining room was grand and warm, illuminated by the golden glow of chandeliers. The long oak table was set with fine porcelain, polished silverware, and wine glasses filled to a modest line. Austria-Hungary sat between his father and Vienna, directly across from Kaiserreich, whose stoic expression remained unreadable as ever.

The Hungarian Empire (HE) raised his glass. “To strengthen bonds, both political and personal. May this meeting mark the beginning of a prosperous future.”

The Austrian Empire (AE) echoed the toast, and the others followed suit, though Austria-Hungary’s enthusiasm waned as the meal progressed.

“So, Kaiserreich,” AE began, his tone cordial but inquisitive. “Your presence here is quite significant. Tell us, how do you manage the balancing act of leading such a diverse and powerful empire?”

Kaiserreich set his wine glass down carefully before responding. “It requires patience, strategy, and an understanding of the people I govern. Each region has its own needs, and those must be addressed without compromising the unity of the whole.”

“A calculated answer,” HE observed, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Do you ever find it exhausting, maintaining such unity?”

“There are moments,” Kaiserreich admitted, his tone even. “But the rewards far outweigh the challenges. I’ve always believed that a united future is a brighter future.”

Austria-Hungary couldn’t help but smile faintly at the familiar phrase. Kaiserreich caught his gaze and offered a subtle nod, a shared understanding passing between them.

The conversation shifted as AE leaned forward. “And what of your personal life? Such responsibility must leave little time for leisure.”

Kaiserreich’s expression didn’t falter. “I find time where I can. Leisure, however, is not my priority.”

AE hummed thoughtfully, then glanced at Austria-Hungary. “Speaking of personal matters, my son, we must discuss your future. As the leader of a burgeoning nation, you’ll need a suitable partner.”

Austria-Hungary froze, his fork pausing midway to his mouth. “Father—”

“It’s essential,” AE pressed on, ignoring the younger nation’s protest. “I’ve considered several possibilities. The Archduchess of Tuscany, for instance, is a fine candidate—educated, poised, and from a noble lineage.”

Austria-Hungary grimaced. “She’s insufferably dull.”

“Then there’s the Duchess of Württemberg. Or perhaps one of the Bavarian princesses—”

“I’m not interested in any of them,” Austria-Hungary snapped, his voice louder than intended.

The room fell silent, save for the faint clink of Vienna’s fork against her plate as she glanced at him with wide, sympathetic eyes.

AE raised an eyebrow, his tone sharpening. “It’s not a matter of interest, but duty. You need a partner who will strengthen your position and contribute to the stability of your realm.”

Austria-Hungary clenched his fists under the table, his face flushing. “I don’t want someone chosen for me like a pawn on a chessboard. Shouldn’t my happiness matter, too?”

Kaiserreich, who had remained silent throughout this exchange, shifted slightly in his seat. His sharp eyes flickered between father and son, his expression unreadable.

AE’s gaze turned toward Kaiserreich, his voice now pointed. “And what about you? Do you have a suitor? A partner to share your burdens with?”

Austria-Hungary’s heart raced, panic bubbling to the surface. Without thinking, he blurted, “Father, that’s not relevant to the discussion!”

AE’s gaze snapped back to him, narrowing with suspicion. “Is it not? You seem particularly invested in this line of questioning.”

Vienna placed a gentle hand on Austria-Hungary’s arm. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “It’s just his way of understanding Kaiserreich better.”

Austria-Hungary managed a shaky smile at her reassurance, though he couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. AE leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully as his suspicions deepened. “Interesting,” he said, the single word carrying weight.

Kaiserreich cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “To answer your question, Austrian Empire, I have no suitor or romantic entanglements at this time. My focus has been entirely on my responsibilities.”

AE studied him closely, then gave a curt nod. “A wise choice, given the demands of leadership.”

The rest of the meal passed in strained silence, with only Vienna occasionally attempting to lighten the mood with polite chatter. Austria-Hungary, his appetite gone, pushed his food around his plate, stealing glances at Kaiserreich, who maintained his usual calm façade.

When the meal finally ended, AE and HE excused themselves to discuss matters privately, leaving Austria-Hungary alone with Vienna and Kaiserreich. The younger nation slumped back in his chair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“I can’t believe him,” Austria-Hungary muttered. “He doesn’t understand at all.”

Vienna patted his shoulder. “He only wants what’s best for you, even if he’s going about it in the wrong way.”

Kaiserreich stood, his expression softening just enough to catch Austria-Hungary’s attention.

“Your father is right about one thing—you deserve someone who will strengthen your position and bring you happiness.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. “And I’m not going anywhere, Austria. Remember that.”

Austria-Hungary’s breath caught, his frustration melting into something warmer. “I know,” he said softly, his eyes meeting Kaiserreich’s. “Thank you.”

Kaiserreich nodded, stepping back. “You should rest. It’s been a long day.”

As Austria-Hungary watched him leave, his heart swelled with both gratitude and longing. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew he wouldn’t face them alone.

Chapter Text

         The moon hung high in the velvet sky as Austria-Hungary carefully carried a tray through the hall, balancing a steaming cup of tea and a freshly baked cookie. His footsteps were light on the plush carpet, and he paused briefly outside Kaiserreich’s door before knocking softly.

“Come in,” Kaiserreich’s deep voice called from within, calm but with its usual commanding timbre.

Austria-Hungary pushed the door open, revealing Kaiserreich sitting by the window, his back straight and posture impeccable as always. The dim light of the room contrasted with the soft glow of the moon, which outlined his sharp features. He appeared to be reading a document, but as Austria-Hungary entered, he set it aside and raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you might like something warm,” Austria-Hungary said, offering the tray. “Tea, and one of the cookies Vienna made earlier. They’re fresh.”

Kaiserreich took the tray, his fingers brushing briefly against Austria-Hungary’s. “Thoughtful, as always,” he said, his lips quirking into the faintest ghost of a smile. He took a sip of the tea, letting out a quiet hum of approval. “Chamomile.”

“It helps with sleep,” Austria-Hungary said pointedly, crossing his arms. “Not that you’d care.”

Kaiserreich’s faint smile vanished, replaced by a neutral expression. “I can’t afford to sleep this week. Nachtkrapp doesn’t take kindly to being cooped up for too long. He’d likely slip out in my absence and cause chaos.”

Austria-Hungary frowned, setting himself down in a chair across from him. “You mean you’re planning to stay awake for an entire week? That’s... That’s insane, Kaiserreich.”

“It’s necessary,” Kaiserreich said simply, taking a bite of the cookie. His sharp eyes softened slightly as he chewed. “The cookie’s good.”

Austria-Hungary sighed, leaning forward. “You’re impossible. You can’t go a whole week without rest—you’ll burn out, and that’s not helpful to anyone. Least of all yourself.”

“I’m used to endurance,” Kaiserreich replied, setting the cup down. “But thank you for the concern.”

“That’s not reassuring.” Austria-Hungary frowned deeply, his worry evident. After a moment of silence, he perked up. “If you’re staying awake, then I’ll stay up with you. We’ll keep each other company.”

Kaiserreich’s brow furrowed. “There’s no need for that. You’ll exhaust yourself.”

“It’s not about need,” Austria-Hungary said stubbornly. “It’s about wanting to. If you’re willing to shoulder the burden of staying up all night for my sake, the least I can do is share the night with you.”

Kaiserreich studied him for a long moment, his sharp gaze searching for something. Finally, he let out a quiet exhale and gestured to the empty chair beside him. “As you wish. But don’t complain about fatigue tomorrow.”

Austria-Hungary grinned, grabbing the chair and dragging it closer. “I won’t. You might regret inviting me, though. I’m not good at sitting still for long.”

“Duly noted,” Kaiserreich said, his tone faintly amused.

The two settled in as the hours stretched on. They shared casual conversation, trading stories from their respective lives. Austria-Hungary recounted a mishap from his childhood involving

Vienna’s insistence on teaching him embroidery, which led to a tapestry riddled with awkward knots. Kaiserreich smirked, sharing his own tale of having to learn courtly dances as a young nation and nearly stepping on Prussia’s toes during a waltz.

“You can waltz?” Austria-Hungary asked, leaning forward with interest.

“Of course. I’ve mastered all the traditional dances of my regions,” Kaiserreich replied matter-of-factly. “Though it’s been years since I’ve had reason to dance.”

Austria-Hungary’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “I should invite you to one of my balls. Maybe you could teach me to waltz properly.”

Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow. “You need teaching?”

“Not really,” Austria-Hungary admitted with a chuckle. “But it’d be fun to see if you could keep up.”

Kaiserreich shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’d manage.”

As the night deepened, their conversation slowed, the atmosphere growing quieter and more intimate. The two sat in companionable silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional rustle of papers or the gentle tap of Austria-Hungary’s fingers on the chair.

“You’re a strange one, Austria,” Kaiserreich said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “Not many would willingly lose sleep just to keep someone company.”

Austria-Hungary shrugged, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “You’re worth it. Besides, I know you’d do the same for me.”

Kaiserreich didn’t reply, but the faint warmth in his gaze spoke volumes. He shifted slightly in his chair, glancing toward the window where the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon.

“It seems the night is ending,” Kaiserreich murmured. “You’ve made it longer than I expected.”

Austria-Hungary yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “Guess I did. But don’t get used to it—I’ll need a nap at some point.”

Kaiserreich smirked. “We’ll see.”

The two sat in silence once more, the bond between them strengthened by the shared hours of the night.

***

The following night unfolded much like the previous one. Kaiserreich had stationed himself in the same chair by the window, papers scattered across the small desk in front of him.

Austria-Hungary sat nearby, propping his chin on his hand as he attempted to keep himself awake. He had insisted on staying up with Kaiserreich again, though the dark circles under his eyes suggested that last night’s efforts had already taken their toll.

“You’re nodding off,” Kaiserreich remarked without looking up from his papers. His voice, as always, was calm and observant.

“I’m not,” Austria-Hungary mumbled, jolting upright in his seat. “I’m just… resting my eyes for a second.”

“That’s a polite way of admitting you’re tired,” Kaiserreich said with a faint smirk. “Go to bed.”

Austria-Hungary shook his head. “Not without you.”

Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow, setting his pen down. “You’ll be more of a liability if you collapse from exhaustion.”

“And you’ll be one if you keep this up all week,” Austria-Hungary countered, folding his arms

stubbornly. “Why don’t we compromise?”

Kaiserreich leaned back in his chair, giving Austria-Hungary a measured look. “What kind of compromise?”

Austria-Hungary gestured to the bed on the far side of the room. “We both lie down. If Nachtkrapp tries anything, I’ll be right there and can wake you up.”

Kaiserreich’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unamused by the suggestion. “You think cuddling will keep Nachtkrapp in check?”

“Not cuddling, exactly,” Austria-Hungary said quickly, though the flush creeping into his cheeks betrayed him. “But it’s practical. I’d notice if you started to move or change, wouldn’t I? You can’t argue with that.”

For a long moment, Kaiserreich didn’t reply, his steely gaze locked on Austria-Hungary as if trying to gauge his sincerity. Finally, with a low sigh, he stood. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Austria-Hungary grinned, triumphant. “I’ve been told.”

Kaiserreich shook his head but made his way to the bed. He slipped off his jacket, setting it neatly on a chair, and sat on the edge of the mattress. Austria-Hungary followed, his movements much less composed as he kicked off his shoes and plopped onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.

“This isn’t as terrible as you’re making it out to be,” Austria-Hungary teased as he settled under the blanket.

Kaiserreich shot him a sharp look but said nothing as he reluctantly joined him. He lay on his back, stiff and clearly unaccustomed to such proximity. Austria-Hungary turned on his side, resting his head on his arm as he studied Kaiserreich’s profile.

“You’re so tense,” Austria-Hungary said softly, his voice warm and teasing. “Relax. I don’t bite.”

“I’m aware,” Kaiserreich replied dryly, though his posture remained rigid.

Austria-Hungary sighed dramatically and shuffled closer, resting his head lightly against Kaiserreich's shoulder. “There. Now you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

Kaiserreich let out a quiet huff, but gradually, his body began to relax. He allowed himself to lean slightly into Austria-Hungary’s warmth, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. The silence that followed was peaceful, the faint rustle of the wind outside the only sound between them.

“See? Not so bad,” Austria-Hungary murmured sleepily, his eyes already beginning to close.

Kaiserreich glanced down at him, his expression unreadable. “Goodnight, Austria.”

“Goodnight, Kaiserreich,” Austria-Hungary whispered, a faint smile on his lips as sleep claimed him.

Though Kaiserreich remained awake for a while longer, his resolve to stay alert began to waver. Austria-Hungary’s steady breathing and the warmth of his presence were strangely comforting, easing the tension that had weighed on him for days.

Eventually, for the first time in what felt like ages, Kaiserreich allowed his eyes to close, trusting that the night would pass peacefully with Austria-Hungary by his side.

***

The soft golden light of dawn crept into the room, casting a faint glow across the bed where Kaiserreich and Austria-Hungary lay. It was the warmth of the sun that stirred Austria-Hungary first. Blinking groggily, he realized his head was resting against Kaiserreich’s chest, his arm draped lazily across the other man’s torso. For a moment, he allowed himself to savor the comfortable intimacy, but then reality crashed down on him.

He bolted upright, his heart hammering in his chest.“Kaiserreich!” he hissed, shaking the still-sleeping man. “Wake up! Someone might see us!”

Kaiserreich stirred with a low grunt, his steel-gray eyes snapping open. His gaze flicked from Austria-Hungary to the sunlight spilling into the room, and his expression immediately darkened.

“You let me fall asleep,” he said flatly, though there was no true malice in his voice—only disbelief.

“You let yourself fall asleep!” Austria-Hungary whispered fiercely, hopping out of the bed. He tugged at his slightly wrinkled shirt, trying to smooth it as panic bubbled inside him. “We have to get back to our rooms before anyone notices we’re missing!”

Kaiserreich sat up slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. “You’re the one who insisted we share a bed,” he muttered, though he was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand. “I warned you this would happen.”

Austria-Hungary glared at him but didn’t waste time arguing. He was too busy gathering his things, his movements frantic as he searched for his shoes. Kaiserreich, far less flustered, calmly reached for his jacket and slipped it on, taking a moment to button it properly.

“Hurry up,” Austria-Hungary urged, gesturing toward the door. “We can’t leave at the same time—someone might see us together!”

“Then go,” Kaiserreich replied, his voice steady and unconcerned. “I’ll leave a few minutes after you.”

Austria-Hungary hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded. He cracked the door open and peeked into the hallway. It was quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustling of leaves from the open windows and the distant clatter of servants preparing breakfast. Satisfied, he slipped out of the room and made a beeline for his own quarters.

Kaiserreich watched him go, shaking his head slightly before moving to straighten the bed. He was nothing if not meticulous, even in situations like this. Once he was certain the room looked undisturbed, he waited another few minutes before exiting and heading toward his own quarters, his expression as stoic as ever.

---

A short while later, servants arrived to fetch them both for breakfast. By then, Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich were safely in their designated rooms, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary. Austria-Hungary, however, couldn’t shake the nerves that danced in his stomach as he joined his father and Kaiserreich in the dining room.

“Good morning,” the Austrian Empire greeted them both, his tone pleasant but watchful. He gestured for them to sit, his eyes briefly lingering on Austria-Hungary. “I trust you both slept well?”

Austria-Hungary nearly choked on his own breath. He glanced quickly at Kaiserreich, who was entirely unbothered as he took his seat at the table.

“Very well, thank you, Father,” Austria-Hungary replied quickly, hoping his voice didn’t betray him.

Kaiserreich inclined his head slightly. “The accommodations were excellent.”

Vienna appeared moments later, offering a bright smile as she set a tray of fresh pastries on the table. “Good morning, everyone,” she chirped. Her cheerful demeanor helped ease some of Austria-Hungary’s tension, though he still avoided looking directly at his father.

As the meal began, the servants flitted in and out of the room, delivering coffee, eggs, and bread. Austria-Hungary focused intently on his plate, determined to act as natural as possible despite the subtle heat creeping into his cheeks every time he glanced at Kaiserreich. If anyone suspected anything, they gave no indication—but the weight of his father’s gaze was unmistakable.

It wasn’t long before the Austrian Empire spoke again, his tone casual yet probing. “I trust you two have been getting along during this visit?”

“Yes, very much so,” Austria-Hungary replied a bit too quickly, earning a faint smirk from Vienna.

Kaiserreich nodded, his expression as unreadable as ever. “Austria-Hungary has been an excellent host.”

Austria-Hungary shot him a grateful look but quickly returned his focus to his plate. Despite their close call that morning, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at Kaiserreich’s composed demeanor. If nothing else, at least one of them could handle the situation with grace.

***

As the servants cleared away the breakfast dishes, the Hungarian Empire gestured for Kaiserreich and Vienna to join him outside. “I’d like a word,” he said, his tone polite but firm.

Kaiserreich exchanged a brief glance with Austria-Hungary before standing, giving a slight bow to the Austrian Empire and following the Hungarian Empire and Vienna out onto the balcony.

The Austrian Empire watched them leave, his sharp gaze lingering on his son. “I hope you’re ready to take responsibility for your choices, Austria-Hungary,” he said suddenly, his voice low but heavy with meaning.

Austria-Hungary tensed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His father leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. The austere lines of his face seemed even more pronounced under the morning light. “You know exactly what I mean. I’ve seen the way you look at Kaiserreich. I’ve heard the rumors.”

A flush rose to Austria-Hungary’s cheeks, but he quickly shook his head. “Father, I—”

“You don’t need to deny it,” the Austrian Empire interrupted, his voice cold. “But I’ll tell you this now: alliances and partnerships are not to be taken lightly. You are no longer a child; you are the future of this empire. Your choices will define our place in Europe.”

Austria-Hungary straightened his back, his jaw tightening. “I understand my responsibilities, but my personal life is not something you can control.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” his father snapped, the veneer of calm slipping. “Your personal life is political. It always has been. Which is why I won’t allow you to delay this any longer.” He fixed his son with a piercing stare. “You will choose three suitable suitors—today.”

The room fell into a tense silence. Austria-Hungary’s mouth opened and closed as he searched for a response. Finally, he found his voice. “I won’t do it.”

“You will,” the Austrian Empire said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if you refuse, I will make the choice for you. Is that what you want? To be paired with someone you have no say in?”

“That’s unfair!” Austria-Hungary shot back, his voice rising. “You’re treating me like a pawn!”

“You are a pawn, Austria-Hungary,” his father said bluntly, his eyes flashing. “Just as I was. Just as everyone in our position is. This is the reality of our station, and you’d do well to remember it.”

Austria-Hungary clenched his fists, his heart pounding. His father’s words stung, but he refused to back down. “If that’s the case, then you might as well know the truth,” he said, his voice trembling with a mix of defiance and anxiety. “There’s only one person I’d ever consider as a suitor, and it’s Kaiserreich.”

The Austrian Empire’s expression froze. For a moment, the room was utterly silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, slowly, his father leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing.

“Kaiserreich,” he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. “Are you telling me that the person who’s been causing all this speculation, all this trouble, is the one you wish to align yourself with?”

“Yes,” Austria-Hungary said firmly, though his voice wavered slightly. “He’s the only one who understands me—who treats me as more than just a title or a future alliance.”

His father’s gaze hardened. “And you think that’s enough? That understanding and feelings are sufficient to build a foundation for our empire’s future?”

“I think it’s a better foundation than political convenience,” Austria-Hungary retorted. “You want me to choose three suitors? Fine. I choose Kaiserreich, Kaiserreich, and Kaiserreich.”

The Austrian Empire’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes blazing with barely restrained anger. “You’re making a mistake,” he said coldly.

“Maybe,” Austria-Hungary replied, standing his ground. “But it’s my mistake to make.”

His father stared at him for a long moment, the tension crackling between them like a storm about to break. Then, without another word, the Austrian Empire rose from his seat and strode out of the room, leaving Austria-Hungary alone at the table.

Austria-Hungary exhaled shakily, his heart racing. He didn’t know what would come of his outburst, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a small spark of pride for standing up for himself—and for Kaiserreich.

As the Hungarian Empire and Kaiserreich returned to the table, Austria-Hungary quickly straightened himself, masking the lingering tension in the room. He plastered on a faint smile, though his eyes flicked toward his father’s empty seat. The Hungarian Empire raised a brow at the absence.

“Where’s your father gone off to?” he asked, settling into his chair and casting a curious glance between his son and the table.

Austria-Hungary hesitated, glancing at Vienna for a moment of reassurance. She caught his look, offering a quick but subtle nod. “He had to step away for a moment,” Austria-Hungary said, his tone light but just shy of convincing. “Something urgent came up. It wasn’t a big deal.”

The Hungarian Empire’s sharp gaze lingered on him, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press the matter in front of their guests. He instead leaned back in his chair and turned his attention to Kaiserreich. “And you, Kaiserreich? I trust my son has been a good host?”

Kaiserreich straightened slightly, his usual stoic expression softening just enough to hint at his approval. “Your son is an excellent host,” he said, his deep voice steady. “He’s gone out of his way to ensure I’m comfortable, and I appreciate his hospitality.”

Vienna smiled at the compliment, her eyes darting between Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich knowingly. “He’s always been thoughtful like that,” she said, a gentle teasing note in her tone.

Austria-Hungary flushed faintly but quickly cleared his throat, motioning toward the remaining food on the table. “Well, I suppose that’s breakfast concluded,” he said, rising from his seat.

“Vienna, if you wouldn’t mind, could you help me gather things? And, Father,”—he glanced meaningfully at the Hungarian Empire—“I think you should have a word with... Father.”

The Hungarian Empire studied him for a moment, his piercing eyes narrowing slightly as if piecing together the subtext. Then, with a slight nod, he rose from his chair. “I’ll see what he needs.”

As he strode out of the room, Austria-Hungary turned his attention to Vienna and Kaiserreich, who remained seated. “Thank you for joining us this morning,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I think we’re done here.”

Kaiserreich tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” Austria-Hungary said quickly, though the edge in his tone suggested otherwise. He forced a small smile and gestured toward the door. “It’s just... time to move on to other things.”

Vienna glanced at Kaiserreich, then back to Austria-Hungary, understanding that something unsaid hung heavily in the air. “Well, I suppose we should leave the table, then,” she said lightly, rising to her feet.

Kaiserreich stood as well, his keen gaze lingering on Austria-Hungary for a moment longer. “If there’s anything you need to talk about,” he said in a low tone, meant only for Austria-Hungary, “you know where to find me.”

Austria-Hungary’s smile softened slightly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know,” he said simply.

As they left the table, the tension in the room finally began to dissipate. Austria-Hungary exhaled a long breath, glancing briefly at the empty seat his father had left behind before following Vienna and Kaiserreich out.

Chapter Text

Austria-Hungary found himself standing outside Kaiserreich’s room once again, heart hammering in his chest. He had meant to go to bed, to put the events of the day behind him and rest, but the thought of being alone with his thoughts had been unbearable. So here he was, a teacup in hand, knocking softly on Kaiserreich’s door.

When the door opened, Kaiserreich’s expression shifted from his usual stoic demeanor to one of faint surprise. “Austria,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

Austria-Hungary offered a small, sheepish smile, holding up the tea. “I thought you might appreciate this,” he said. “And... I needed to talk to you.”

Kaiserreich stepped aside, allowing him in without another word. The room was dimly lit, a single lamp casting a warm glow over the neatly kept space. Austria-Hungary set the teacup down on the bedside table before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Kaiserreich followed, his presence as solid and grounding as ever. “What’s troubling you?” he asked, sitting beside him.

Austria-Hungary took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s about my father,” he began. “And... what happened this morning at breakfast.”

Kaiserreich’s brow furrowed slightly, his sharp gaze fixed on Austria-Hungary. “I suspected something,” he said, his voice even. “You seemed... off.”

Austria-Hungary chuckled dryly. “Off is one way to put it. He’s pressuring me to marry,” he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. “He said if I didn’t choose a suitor myself, he’d choose for me.”

Kaiserreich’s jaw tightened, his posture straightening. “And who does he have in mind?”

“Oh, a whole list of people I have no interest in,” Austria-Hungary said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But I... I told him the truth. I told him I’ve already made my choice.”

Kaiserreich’s expression softened slightly, though his guarded nature kept him from fully showing his emotions. “And that choice is me?”

“Yes,” Austria-Hungary said firmly, meeting his gaze. “It’s you. I told him I want to be with you. But, of course, he wasn’t happy about it.”

Kaiserreich’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned back slightly, his wings twitching faintly beneath his coat. “Because I’m Prussia’s son,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “Your father doesn’t trust me—or him.”

Austria-Hungary reached out, placing a hand on Kaiserreich’s arm. “It’s not you he doesn’t trust,” he said earnestly. “It’s the history between our nations. The wars, the rivalries... it’s hard for him to let that go. But I don’t care about any of that. I know who you are, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Kaiserreich’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his stoic mask slipped, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability. “You’re willing to stand against your father for this?”

“I already have,” Austria-Hungary said, his voice steady. “And I’ll keep doing it. He may not approve, but this is my life. My future. And I want it to be with you.”

Kaiserreich was silent for a long moment, his gaze searching Austria-Hungary’s face. Then, with a rare show of emotion, he reached out and gently cupped Austria-Hungary’s cheek. “You’re braver than I gave you credit for,” he said softly.

Austria-Hungary leaned into the touch, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You’re worth it,” he murmured.

Kaiserreich exhaled a quiet sigh, his thumb brushing lightly over Austria-Hungary’s cheekbone. “If your father wants proof of my intentions, I’ll give it to him,” he said. “I’ll show him that I’m not just ‘Prussia’s boy.’ I’m my own man, and I’ll stand by you.”

Austria-Hungary’s heart swelled at the words, and he reached up to cover Kaiserreich’s hand with his own. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between them. Then, with a soft chuckle, Austria-Hungary broke the tension. “Now, let’s get some sleep before we both collapse,” he said, shifting to lie down on the bed.

Kaiserreich hesitated for a moment before joining him, lying beside him with a surprising ease.

As they settled under the blankets, Austria-Hungary felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.

As Austria-Hungary shifted to lie down, Kaiserreich hesitated, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. His wings, normally tucked with military precision, quivered slightly as though unsure whether to stay or stretch.

“Kaiser,” Austria-Hungary said softly, turning to face him. “You can relax, you know. You don’t always have to stand guard, especially not with me.”

Kaiserreich glanced down at him, his expression unreadable. “Force of habit,” he admitted, but after a moment, he sighed and joined Austria-Hungary under the covers. His movements were deliberate, as though he were still adjusting to the unfamiliar intimacy.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains casting soft shadows over their faces. Austria-Hungary turned to his side, his hand tentatively resting against Kaiserreich’s chest. He could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, solid and reassuring.

“You know,” Austria-Hungary began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve come to admire every side of you. The one that’s calm and stoic, the one that’s cunning and sharp, even the one that hides in the shadows with wings like the night.”

Kaiserreich looked at him, his golden eyes catching the faint light. “Even Nachtkrapp?” he asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Austria-Hungary nodded, a faint smile curving his lips. “Especially Nachtkrapp. He’s... a part of you, just as much as the rest. And I wouldn’t trade any part of you for the world.”

For a moment, Kaiserreich was silent, his gaze fixed on Austria-Hungary as though searching for some hidden motive. Then, with a rare show of vulnerability, he let out a quiet breath. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me before,” he said. “Not in that way.”

“Well,” Austria-Hungary replied, his smile growing, “it’s about time someone did.”

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at Kaiserreich’s lips, though it was fleeting. He reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair from Austria-Hungary’s face. “You... surprise me,” he admitted. “In ways I didn’t think possible.”

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks flushed, but he didn’t look away. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is,” Kaiserreich said quietly. “More than I can put into words.”

The moment hung between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, slowly, deliberately, Kaiserreich leaned closer. His movements were careful, almost hesitant, as though he were afraid of crossing a line. But when their faces were mere inches apart, Austria-Hungary closed the distance, his lips brushing softly against Kaiserreich’s.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle meeting of two uncertain hearts. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, their emotions pouring into the simple act. Kaiserreich’s hand moved to cradle the back of Austria-Hungary’s head, his touch firm yet tender. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

“Thank you,” Kaiserreich murmured, his voice low and sincere.

Austria-Hungary blinked, surprised. “For what?”

“For seeing me,” Kaiserreich said, his golden eyes meeting Austria-Hungary’s with an intensity that made his heart skip a beat. “For accepting me. All of me.”

Austria-Hungary smiled, his hand finding Kaiserreich’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Always,” he promised.

They lay together in the quiet after that, their arms wrapped around each other as though anchoring themselves in the moment. And as Austria-Hungary drifted off to sleep, his head nestled against Kaiserreich’s chest, he felt a deep sense of contentment.

For the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

****

Austria-Hungary stirred as sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, its warmth spilling over the room. The faint sounds of bustling servants echoed somewhere in the distance, but the comfort of Kaiserreich’s arms made the outside world seem far away.

His head rested against Kaiserreich’s chest, rising and falling with his even breaths. A faint smile tugged at Austria-Hungary’s lips as he realized they were still tangled together, his arms draped over Kaiserreich’s waist and one of Kaiserreich’s wings loosely draped over him like a blanket.

It was only when Austria-Hungary shifted slightly that he froze. At the foot of the bed, standing tall and composed, was the Hungarian Empire. His expression was a careful blend of tension and reassurance, though his clenched fists at his sides betrayed his efforts to remain calm.

“Good morning,” the Hungarian Empire said, his voice level but carrying a weight that made Austria-Hungary’s stomach churn.

Kaiserreich stirred at the sound, his golden eyes flickering open. It took him a moment to process the scene, but when he did, his body went rigid.

“Hungarian Empire,” Kaiserreich greeted with a formal nod, his voice betraying none of the tension in the air.

Austria-Hungary scrambled upright, his cheeks flaming as he hastily tried to smooth his rumpled clothes. “Father, I—”

The Hungarian Empire raised a hand to silence him. “Relax, Austria. I came to check on you since you missed breakfast, and... well, I see you’ve been preoccupied.”

Austria-Hungary’s blush deepened, and he glanced nervously at Kaiserreich, who seemed to be taking the entire situation in stride, his expression unreadable.

The Hungarian Empire stepped closer, his sharp gaze flicking between the two of them. “I’m not here to reprimand you,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “But I think we should have a conversation about this... arrangement.”

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his hands twisting nervously in his lap. “Father, I—”

“Later,” the Hungarian Empire interrupted gently but firmly. “For now, get yourselves presentable. Vienna and the Austrian Empire are already asking where you are.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him. The silence that followed was deafening. Austria-Hungary buried his face in his hands, groaning. “Oh no, this is bad. This is so bad.”

Kaiserreich sat up slowly, his wings stretching briefly before folding neatly behind him. “It’s not ideal,” he admitted, his voice calm, “but it could have been worse.”

Austria-Hungary shot him a look. “Worse? My father just found us in bed together!”

Kaiserreich raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but he didn’t react poorly. That’s something.”

Austria-Hungary let out a frustrated sigh, his head falling back against the pillow. “He’s going to tell my other father. And then they’re both going to corner me, and I’ll have to explain everything, and—”

“And you’ll handle it,” Kaiserreich interrupted, his tone steady. He placed a hand on

Austria-Hungary’s shoulder, his touch grounding. “You’re stronger than you think. Besides, it’s clear they care about you. They’ll listen.”

Austria-Hungary looked up at him, his panic slowly ebbing away. “You really think so?”

Kaiserreich nodded. “I do. Now, come on. Let’s get ready before the Hungarian Empire decides to come back.”

With a reluctant sigh, Austria-Hungary swung his legs over the side of the bed, Kaiserreich following suit. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there was an unspoken understanding between them—a shared determination to face whatever came next together.

---

Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich were nearly at the breakfast hall when they heard the unmistakable clicking of Vienna’s boots down the corridor. She appeared around the corner, her braid swaying with each step and her expression equal parts amused and concerned.

“Well, good morning to the two of you,” she said, her voice light but her eyes sharp.

Austria-Hungary froze mid-step, his cheeks burning again. “Vienna! I—uh—didn’t expect to see you here.”

Her gaze flicked between the two of them, lingering just a fraction longer on Kaiserreich, whose usual composure had returned. “I can imagine. Considering how long you’ve taken to come down and how you both seem rather... close this morning.”

Kaiserreich, ever unbothered, gave her a polite nod. “Good morning, Vienna.”

Vienna crossed her arms, her lips quirking into a sly smile. “Good morning, Kaiserreich. And you—” she turned to Austria-Hungary, her tone softening. “You’re lucky I ran into you before anyone else did. Hungarian Empire might be calm, but the Austrian Empire is pacing the dining hall like he’s ready to summon an army.”

Austria-Hungary groaned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I know. I’m in for it, aren’t I?”

Vienna stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You might be, but I want you to know something, Austria.” Her gaze softened, and she offered him a reassuring smile. “No matter what happens, I’m on your side. You deserve happiness, and if that’s with Kaiserreich, then so be it. Don’t let anyone—not even your fathers—convince you otherwise.”

Austria-Hungary blinked at her, the lump of anxiety in his chest easing slightly. “You really mean that?”

Vienna nodded. “I do. You’ve always been good to me, Austria. Supporting you is the least I can do.”

Kaiserreich inclined his head toward her, a rare flicker of gratitude crossing his stoic face. “Thank you, Vienna. Your support means a great deal.”

She waved him off, her smile growing more mischievous. “Don’t thank me yet. Just make sure you both keep your wits about you during breakfast. The Austrian Empire has questions, and you’d better be ready to answer them.”

Austria-Hungary groaned again, but her encouragement gave him enough resolve to straighten his posture. “Thanks, Vienna. Really.”

“Anytime,” she said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. Then, with a wink, she added,

“Now hurry up before they send someone to fetch you. And try not to look so guilty.”

With that, she strode off down the hall, leaving Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich to exchange a glance.

“She’s a good ally to have,” Kaiserreich remarked.

Austria-Hungary nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “She is. Let’s just hope we can survive the rest of breakfast.”

Together, they walked toward the dining hall, bracing themselves for whatever awaited them.

Chapter Text

         The grand dining hall was quieter than Austria-Hungary expected. As he and Kaiserreich stepped inside, the tension in the air was almost tangible. The Austrian Empire sat at the head of the table, his fingers interlocked as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp and unreadable. Beside him, the Hungarian Empire exuded warmth, offering a welcoming smile that felt like a beacon in the storm.

“Good morning,” Hungarian Empire greeted cheerfully, his tone a stark contrast to the oppressive silence that had settled. “Come, sit. The food is fresh, and the coffee is strong.”

Austria-Hungary hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, moving toward his seat. Vienna trailed behind him, her usual grace tempered by an uncharacteristic stiffness. Kaiserreich, however, strode forward with the ease of someone entirely unaffected by the tension.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said, his tone measured but polite, as if the atmosphere around him didn’t exist. He took his seat opposite the Austrian Empire, folding his hands neatly on the table.

The Austrian Empire gave him a curt nod but said nothing, his jaw tight. Austria-Hungary swallowed hard as he slid into his chair beside Vienna, his hands fiddling with the napkin in front of him.

The Hungarian Empire chuckled, attempting to fill the void. “It’s good to see young faces with an appetite for diplomacy—and, I hope, breakfast.” He gestured toward the platters on the table, laden with freshly baked rolls, soft butter, sliced meats, and steaming cups of coffee.

Vienna reached for a roll without a word, avoiding eye contact. Austria-Hungary glanced at her for reassurance, but she kept her gaze lowered. Kaiserreich, undeterred, took a plate and began to serve himself with precision.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Kaiserreich said as he buttered a roll. “It’s always a privilege to spend time among such esteemed company.”

The Hungarian Empire’s smile grew, clearly charmed by Kaiserreich’s diplomatic tone. “You’re welcome anytime, Kaiserreich. It’s a pleasure to have you here.”

The Austrian Empire, however, remained silent, his eyes flickering between Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich. The weight of his gaze felt unbearable, and Austria-Hungary could feel his father’s unspoken questions hanging in the air.

“Thank you, Father,” Austria-Hungary managed, his voice quieter than he intended. He avoided looking directly at the Austrian Empire, instead focusing on the food in front of him.

The table settled into an uneasy rhythm. The Hungarian Empire kept the conversation light, speaking about the beauty of the countryside and the importance of fostering strong alliances.

Kaiserreich responded courteously, his words deliberate and precise, always managing to steer the conversation away from anything too personal.

Austria-Hungary barely touched his plate, his thoughts swirling with the memory of his argument with the Austrian Empire and the overwhelming tension now. Vienna reached under the table and gave his hand a brief squeeze, offering silent support.

But even as the Hungarian Empire tried to carry the conversation, the Austrian Empire’s silence loomed over them, a reminder that the morning was far from over.

The air in the room grew impossibly thick as the Austrian Empire straightened his posture, his gaze unwavering as it bore into Kaiserreich. Austria-Hungary could feel his father’s sharp intent radiating across the table, slicing through the fragile calm that had barely been holding.

"Austria-Hungary," the Austrian Empire began, his voice low and deliberate, "has made it very clear to me who he would choose as his suitor, should I allow it."

Austria-Hungary’s heart lurched, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson. He immediately averted his gaze, wishing more than anything to sink into the floor beneath him. Vienna’s hand brushed against his knee under the table in a silent attempt at comfort, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him.

The Hungarian Empire raised an eyebrow, folding his hands neatly in front of him. "This is an interesting development," he said, though his voice lacked any true surprise.

The Austrian Empire ignored his husband, his attention locked solely on Kaiserreich. "What I want to know," he continued, his voice sharp, "is what you think about this, Kaiserreich. My son has made his choice, but I cannot overlook the obvious—your ties to Prussia. Your father’s history with this family. Why should I trust you? Why should I consider this at all?"

Kaiserreich, to his credit, remained calm under the scrutiny. His silver eyes flickered briefly to Austria-Hungary, then back to the Austrian Empire. His face betrayed no emotion, his demeanor the same impenetrable shield he always wore.

"With respect," Kaiserreich began, his voice steady and even, "your concerns are valid. I am my father’s son, and I cannot change that. But I am also my own man, and I believe Austria-Hungary is capable of seeing that for himself."

Austria-Hungary looked up at him then, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. There was a quiet strength in Kaiserreich’s tone, one that made him feel as though the older nation could bear the weight of this scrutiny without faltering.

"My intentions toward your son," Kaiserreich continued, "are genuine. I didn’t plan for this... connection to form, but it has, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t care for him deeply."

The Austrian Empire’s expression remained unreadable, though his fingers tapped idly against the table in thought. He leaned forward slightly, narrowing his gaze. "Care for him in what way?" he pressed. "As a friend? As an ally? Or is it something else entirely?"

Kaiserreich’s composure faltered for the briefest of moments, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. He exhaled softly before meeting the Austrian Empire’s gaze directly.

"It is something else," he admitted, his voice quieter now but no less firm. "I respect him. I admire him. And yes, I have come to care for him in ways that extend beyond mere politics or friendship."

Austria-Hungary’s breath hitched. He had never heard Kaiserreich speak so plainly about his feelings, and the honesty in his words left him both stunned and elated.

The Austrian Empire, however, seemed less moved. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he studied Kaiserreich. "And what of my son’s future?" he asked bluntly. "Do you believe yourself capable of offering him what he needs? Stability? Prosperity? A life free of the chaos your bloodline so often attracts?"

Kaiserreich didn’t flinch. "I believe so," he replied. "I may not be perfect, but I can promise that I will do everything in my power to protect him and support him. He deserves someone who sees his worth, someone who will stand by him no matter what challenges come."

The room fell silent. The Austrian Empire’s stern gaze lingered on Kaiserreich, weighing his words carefully. The Hungarian Empire glanced between the two men, his expression unreadable.

Finally, the Austrian Empire turned his attention to Austria-Hungary, his eyes softening just slightly. "And you," he said, his tone quieter now. "Are you certain this is what you want? That he is who you want?"

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his throat dry. He nodded, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. "Yes, Father," he said. "I am certain."

The Austrian Empire sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache.

"Then I suppose," he said slowly, "we will see where this path leads. But understand this, both of you—I will not tolerate failure. If this is to happen, it must be done with care, with thought. Do not make me regret this."

Kaiserreich inclined his head respectfully. "Understood."

Austria-Hungary exhaled, relief flooding through him. His father’s approval—however begrudging—felt like a monumental step forward. Vienna nudged him gently under the table, offering a small, encouraging smile. He returned it, his heart feeling just a bit lighter.

The Hungarian Empire, meanwhile, raised his glass. "Well," he said with a smile, "it seems we have much to discuss moving forward. But for now, let’s finish this meal in peace, shall we?"

The tension in the room began to dissipate, and for the first time in what felt like hours, Austria-Hungary allowed himself to breathe freely.

---

The late afternoon sun bathed the estate gardens in a warm golden glow. Austria-Hungary walked beside Kaiserreich, their steps slow and unhurried as they meandered through the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming flowerbeds. The young prince couldn’t help but steal glances at Kaiserreich, his heart skipping each time the older nation’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles.

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” Austria-Hungary said softly, his hands clasped behind his back to hide his nerves. “I would’ve been fine on my own.”

Kaiserreich arched an eyebrow, his silver eyes shimmering in the sunlight. “I’m beginning to think you underestimate my capacity to enjoy things outside of politics,” he said.

Austria-Hungary chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, you don’t exactly strike me as someone who stops to smell the roses.”

“Perhaps not,” Kaiserreich admitted, reaching out to brush his fingertips against a vibrant red bloom. “But for you, I think I could make an exception.”

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks turned pink, and he quickly looked away, feigning interest in a distant tree. Behind them, the Austrian Empire stood on the terrace with the Hungarian Empire, watching the scene unfold.

“They look comfortable together,” the Hungarian Empire observed, sipping his wine.

“Too comfortable,” the Austrian Empire muttered, his brow furrowing. “I’m not sure whether to be relieved or more concerned.”

“You worry too much,” his husband said with a chuckle. “Let the boy have his moment. It’s been far too long since we’ve seen him smile like that.”

The Austrian Empire sighed but said nothing more.

---

In the estate’s sitting room, Austria-Hungary and Kaiserreich sat side by side on a plush couch, a chessboard between them. The game was in full swing, pieces scattered across the board in a battle of wits and strategy.

“You’re losing,” Kaiserreich said calmly, his gaze fixed on the board.

Austria-Hungary frowned, his hand hovering indecisively over his knight. “I’m not,” he protested weakly, though the growing smirk on Kaiserreich’s face suggested otherwise.

“Your king is exposed,” Kaiserreich pointed out, tapping the table lightly to draw his attention.

Austria-Hungary groaned, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “You’re impossible,” he muttered.

“You’re predictable,” Kaiserreich countered, his voice carrying a faint teasing edge.

Vienna entered the room then, a tray of tea and biscuits balanced in her hands. She set it on the low table between them, glancing at the board with a small smile.

“Let me guess,” she said, pouring tea into delicate porcelain cups. “Kaiserreich is winning again.”

Austria-Hungary groaned louder, and Vienna laughed. “Don’t be too hard on him,” she said, nudging her brother playfully. “You’ll catch him off guard one of these days.”

“I doubt it,” Austria-Hungary grumbled, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his annoyance.

Vienna glanced at Kaiserreich, her smile softening. “It’s nice to see him like this,” she said quietly.

Kaiserreich nodded, his gaze lingering on Austria-Hungary. “It’s nice to see him happy,” he replied.

---

The evening had settled in, the sky painted in deep hues of blue and black as the estate lights flickered to life. Kaiserreich and Austria-Hungary stood on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against their skin.

“This place is beautiful at night,” Kaiserreich said, his voice low.

Austria-Hungary nodded, his hands gripping the railing as he looked out over the illuminated gardens. “It’s peaceful,” he said. “For once, everything feels... still.”

Kaiserreich turned to him, his expression unreadable. “And you?” he asked. “Do you feel still?”

Austria-Hungary glanced at him, surprised by the question. “I think so,” he said after a moment.

“At least... when I’m with you.”

Kaiserreich’s lips twitched into a faint smile, but before he could reply, footsteps sounded behind them. They turned to see Vienna passing by with a tray of linens, her smile widening as she caught sight of them.

“Don’t stay out too late,” she said with a wink. “Some of us have work to do.”

Austria-Hungary blushed, but Kaiserreich simply nodded. “Noted,” he said.

As Vienna disappeared into the house, Austria-Hungary leaned closer to Kaiserreich, his shoulder brushing against his. “She’s going to tease me about this later, isn’t she?”

“Undoubtedly,” Kaiserreich replied, his tone as even as ever. But there was warmth in his eyes as he looked at Austria-Hungary, a silent promise that whatever came next, they would face it together.

***

The mansion was quiet, the hallways cloaked in shadows as Austria-Hungary slipped through them with careful, practiced steps. His heart raced, but not from fear of being caught—it was anticipation that quickened his pulse. When he reached Kaiserreich’s door, he hesitated only for a moment before pushing it open.

Kaiserreich was seated by the window, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his sharp features. He turned as the door creaked, his expression unreadable as always.

“You’re late,” Kaiserreich said, his tone neutral, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

Austria-Hungary stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. “I had to make sure no one saw me,” he said, moving to stand near the bed. “I wanted to talk to you about earlier.”

Kaiserreich tilted his head, gesturing for him to continue.

“With my father,” Austria-Hungary clarified, fidgeting slightly. “It’s just... he’s always so tense. I know he means well, but it feels like he’s constantly trying to control everything.”

Kaiserreich leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. “He’s a ruler. Control is his nature. It’s how he protects what he values.”

“I know,” Austria-Hungary admitted, his voice soft. “But sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe under all that pressure.”

Kaiserreich stood, crossing the room with deliberate steps. When he stopped in front of Austria-Hungary, he reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And you’re not alone in this.”

Austria-Hungary looked up at him, his chest tightening. “Thank you,” he murmured, his cheeks warming.

After a moment of silence, Kaiserreich surprised him by gesturing toward the bed. “Stay here tonight,” he said, his tone as calm and matter-of-fact as ever.

Austria-Hungary blinked, caught off guard. “You’re offering to...?”

“To snuggle,” Kaiserreich clarified, his lips quirking ever so slightly. “Since you seem to enjoy it so much.”

Austria-Hungary’s face lit up, and he eagerly nodded. “I’d like that,” he said, his excitement bubbling over as he climbed into the bed.

Kaiserreich followed, settling beside him with the same composed grace he carried in every movement. This time, though, he took the lead, pulling Austria-Hungary close and wrapping an arm securely around him. Austria-Hungary’s heart fluttered as he rested his head against Kaiserreich’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing melody.

“You’re surprisingly warm,” Austria-Hungary murmured, his voice muffled against Kaiserreich’s shirt.

“You sound surprised,” Kaiserreich replied dryly, his hand trailing lightly down Austria-Hungary’s back.

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, the moonlight filtering through the curtains and bathing the room in a soft glow. But then, Kaiserreich shifted, tilting Austria-Hungary’s face up toward his own.

“You’ve been on my mind more than I care to admit,” Kaiserreich said, his silver eyes meeting

Austria-Hungary’s with an intensity that made the younger nation’s breath hitch. “It’s... disarming.”

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his heart racing. “You mean that?”

Kaiserreich didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned down, pressing a gentle but deliberate kiss to Austria-Hungary’s lips. The touch was firm, confident, yet carried an unspoken tenderness that left Austria-Hungary dizzy.

They kissed again, and then again, the space between them shrinking until there was none left. Kaiserreich’s stoic demeanor softened, his hands trailing along Austria-Hungary’s back and waist with a surprising gentleness.

At some point, Austria-Hungary found himself on his back, Kaiserreich leaning over him with a rare but faint smile tugging at his lips. Austria-Hungary grinned up at him, his cheeks flushed as he reached up to pull Kaiserreich closer.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” Austria-Hungary teased, his voice breathless.

“So are you,” Kaiserreich countered, his lips brushing against Austria-Hungary’s neck.

Instead of the usual kiss, Austria-Hungary felt a sharp nip, Kaiserreich’s teeth pressing firmly into the sensitive skin of his neck. The sensation sent a shiver through him, and he gasped, his fingers clutching at Kaiserreich’s arms.

“Did that hurt?” Kaiserreich asked, his voice low, almost teasing, as he pulled back slightly to examine the mark—a vivid, deep bruise surrounded by faint indentations from his teeth.

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks were flushed, his breathing unsteady. “N-no,” he managed, his voice trembling slightly. “It was... intense.”

“Good,” Kaiserreich said simply, leaning down to press another, softer kiss to the same spot, as if soothing the bite.

Austria-Hungary sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around Kaiserreich as they settled back into the pillows. “If this is what the future looks like,” he murmured, his voice heavy with sleep, “then I think I can handle it.”

Kaiserreich didn’t reply, but the way he held Austria-Hungary close spoke volumes. For the first time in a long time, they both felt at peace.

Chapter Text

         Austria-Hungary stirred awake, blinking against the faint light of dawn creeping through the curtains. Something felt off—there was a distinct chill in the air, and when he turned his head, he was met with the piercing black-and-gold eyes of Nachtkrapp.

“Kaiserreich?” he asked groggily, sitting up slightly, but the sharp gaze and the slight twitch of wings behind his companion immediately corrected him.

“It’s Nachtkrapp,” the darker side of Kaiserreich clarified, his voice low and gravelly. “Don’t confuse us.”

Austria-Hungary rubbed his eyes, sitting up straighter. “Alright, Nachtkrapp,” he said, his tone still laced with sleep. “Why are you here? You seem... tense.”

Nachtkrapp’s expression didn’t change, but there was an unmistakable flicker of agitation in his stance. He reached out, his gloved fingers brushing against Austria-Hungary’s neck.

“What’s this?” Nachtkrapp asked, his voice clipped, though there was an undercurrent of something darker—possessiveness.

Austria-Hungary blinked in confusion until Nachtkrapp tilted his head toward a mirror on the nightstand. Leaning forward, Austria-Hungary saw it: a second, unmistakably deep hickey just below the first.

His face turned scarlet as the realization hit him. “I—Kaiserreich—he—”

“It’s not his mark,” Nachtkrapp interrupted, his wings flaring slightly as his tone turned sharp. “It’s mine.”

Austria-Hungary froze. “Yours?”

Nachtkrapp’s gaze bore into him. “I’m not merely a shadow. I’m a part of him, yet separate.

When I leave marks, they are mine, and mine alone.” He leaned closer, his gloved hand cupping Austria-Hungary’s jaw. “And I don’t like sharing what I claim.”

Austria-Hungary’s heart raced. “So... what are you saying?”

“I’m asking for permission,” Nachtkrapp said, his voice softening just a fraction, though the edge of intensity remained. “To plant more. To remind anyone—especially him—that you’re under my protection.”

Austria-Hungary’s breath hitched. The room felt smaller, the air thicker as Nachtkrapp’s words sank in. It was as though the dark figure before him radiated raw possessiveness, but there was a strange gentleness beneath it, too—a need for consent, for assurance.

“You’re jealous of... yourself?” Austria-Hungary asked, a nervous chuckle escaping him.

Nachtkrapp’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. “You’re sharper than you look. So, what’s your answer?”

Austria-Hungary hesitated, his fingers clutching the sheets as his cheeks burned. He wasn’t sure if it was the tension of the moment or the way Nachtkrapp’s presence seemed to envelop him entirely, but something in him wanted to agree. Slowly, he nodded.

“Yes,” he whispered. “You can.”

The smirk deepened, and Nachtkrapp moved with deliberate precision, pulling Austria-Hungary closer until their faces were mere inches apart.

“Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against Austria-Hungary’s skin.

Without further delay, Nachtkrapp leaned in, his lips brushing against the unmarked side of Austria-Hungary’s neck before his teeth sank lightly into the sensitive flesh. The pressure was firm, and possessive, but it wasn’t painful—it sent a shiver down Austria-Hungary’s spine, leaving him breathless.

Another mark was left, darker and bolder than the previous ones, and Nachtkrapp pulled back to admire his handiwork. His gloved hand traced the fresh bruise, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features.

“Perfect,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Austria-Hungary touched the mark gingerly, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re... a lot more intense than your other side,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Nachtkrapp chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a thrill through Austria-Hungary. “You’ll get used to it,” he said, his wings folding neatly behind him.

Austria-Hungary’s gaze softened. “You’re both different, but you’re both him,” he said quietly.

“And I... I like both of you.”

For the first time, Nachtkrapp’s expression shifted. The hard edge of his stoicism gave way to something softer, almost vulnerable. He didn’t respond with words, but the way he pulled Austria-Hungary into a firm embrace spoke volumes.

They sat there for a while, the morning light slowly creeping into the room. Austria-Hungary’s heart swelled as he leaned into Nachtkrapp’s hold, feeling the warmth of his protector—of both sides of the man he was coming to cherish.

Nachtkrapp’s arms tightened around Austria-Hungary for a moment, his dark wings rustling faintly before he pulled back, his piercing black-and-gold eyes locking onto the young man’s flushed face. There was an intensity in his gaze, a possessiveness that was impossible to ignore.

“You’ve already given me permission,” Nachtkrapp murmured, his gloved fingers tracing along the edge of Austria-Hungary’s collar. “But I don’t think I’ve made my claim clear enough yet.”

Austria-Hungary’s heart thudded wildly in his chest as Nachtkrapp’s fingers brushed against the buttons of his shirt. “Wait, you mean—”

“I mean exactly that,” Nachtkrapp interrupted, his tone low and firm, though there was a strange gentleness in the way he undid the first button. “I want every inch of you to bear my mark. No confusion, no questions.”

Austria-Hungary swallowed hard, his breath hitching as Nachtkrapp’s fingers deftly worked their way down his shirt, unfastening each button with measured precision. The cool air of the room kissed his skin as the fabric was pulled away, leaving him bare to Nachtkrapp’s piercing gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” Nachtkrapp said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver through Austria-Hungary.

Austria-Hungary’s cheeks burned, and he averted his gaze. “You don’t have to say things like that,” he mumbled, his hands twitching nervously in his lap.

“But I want to,” Nachtkrapp countered, leaning closer. His lips found the curve of

Austria-Hungary’s shoulder, brushing softly against the skin before his teeth sank in just enough to leave a dark, lingering mark.

Austria-Hungary gasped, his body trembling as the sensation sent a jolt of heat through him.

“Nachtkrapp...”

“Tell me to stop,” Nachtkrapp said, his voice rough but steady as he trailed his lips and teeth along Austria-Hungary’s collarbone, leaving another mark just below his neck.

“I don’t want you to stop,” Austria-Hungary whispered, his hands hesitantly reaching up to rest against Nachtkrapp’s shoulders.

That was all the encouragement Nachtkrapp needed. He continued his path, pressing his lips to every inch of exposed skin, his teeth following to leave dark bruises in their wake. Each mark was deliberate, a clear claim of dominance and protection.

By the time he reached Austria-Hungary’s chest, the younger man was breathless, his head tilted back as he clung to Nachtkrapp’s shoulders. “You’re relentless,” he murmured, though there was no real complaint in his tone.

Nachtkrapp chuckled, his wings shifting behind him as he looked up at Austria-Hungary with a smirk. “You deserve nothing less.”

As his lips moved lower, Austria-Hungary’s hands tightened their grip on Nachtkrapp’s shoulders, his breath coming in uneven gasps. He wasn’t sure how far this would go, but hedidn’t care. All he could think about was the intensity of Nachtkrapp’s touch, the way each mark seemed to burn with a mix of pain and pleasure that left him yearning for more.

When Nachtkrapp finally pulled back, his gloved hand brushed against Austria-Hungary’s cheek, tilting his head so their eyes met. “Now,” he said, his voice softer but still firm, “no one will mistake who you belong to. Not even my other half.”

Austria-Hungary blinked up at him, his cheeks flushed and his body trembling. “You’re... intense,” he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nachtkrapp’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “And you wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Austria-Hungary couldn’t argue with that. He let out a shaky laugh, leaning into Nachtkrapp’s touch as his mind swirled with a mix of emotions—embarrassment, desire, and something deeper that he couldn’t quite name.

They stayed like that for a while, the midnight light filtering through the curtains as they basked in the quiet intimacy of the moment. For all of Nachtkrapp’s intensity, there was a surprising tenderness in the way he held Austria-Hungary as if he were something precious that Nachtkrapp was determined to protect at all costs. And for the first time, Austria-Hungary realized he didn’t mind being claimed.

Nachtkrapp grinned, in an almost crazed and hungry way. “My turn…” He grunted, pinning Austria-Hungary to the mattress. “Remember this?” He raised a brow, pecking his nose.

“Did you enjoy the last time?”

“Of course I did…” Austria-Hungary nodded slowly.

“And would you like to do it again?” It was clear both parties would continue this, but the explosion of the taboo and reality added to the excitement.

“Absolutely…” He replied breathlessly.

His chest was peppered with kisses, meanwhile clothes were tossed around and aside. He'd have to keep quiet with his parents more aware of the situation. And so he bit down on his wrist and those kisses got steamy, lower, and eager. His legs twitched as a kiss was firmly planted on the end of his cock.

“No need to bite yourself.” The German claimed, shuffling his pants off and laying sideways, vertically, and upside down to Austria-Hungary. “I know just how to keep each of us quiet.” He rumbled the purr, somehow keeping eye contact as he took Austria-Hungary into his mouth and softly pushed his own hips toward the Austrian.

After a soft whimper, Austria-Hungary returned Kaiserreich’s favor, swirling tongue around the head and slowly taking in more and more. He’d never given nor received a blowjob. Much less done a position such as this before. His mind fogged twice as fast as it had the previous time. But he was just as determined to please his partner.

He gave teasing gentle sucks at first, bobbing his head every few times. A bob was paired with a harder sucker, and each moan he made was paired with a small buck of his hips. Speaking of hips, claws laid on his as Kaiserreich greedily swallowed him down his throat. Frankly, he didn’t consider Kaiserreich the type to do this, but he wouldn’t complain. This was probably the best pleasure he’d ever felt before. His thighs and chest were all tingly and warm. His breath was short and a knot in his gut.

He grunted and shifted closer to his lover, letting dick sink down his throat. He’d gagged a few times yet managed to relax after some practice. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that feeling… gagging, on the edge of vomiting. Personally, he didn’t enjoy vomiting. But there was a little thrill in the risk of it. Overall, he’d rather avoid the feeling, though, he’d decided.

He had his eyes closed, nose tickling Kaiserrech’s balls. He could practically feel them tense, and he braced himself. Thoughts of what the explosion in his mouth would feel like swarmed through his head. Then they escaped his mind and joined his groin, invoking the flame larger. And he felt himself on the edge and he was ready to fall.

He choked himself of Germany one last time before spilling. At first, Kaiserreich gagged and seemed to struggle- could you blame him? He’s never done this either. But he figured out to hold the cum in his mouth until Austria-Hungary was done, then swallow. He slowly lifted himself up, panting softly and guiding Austria-Hungary head in a rhythm until he too tipped over. Now it was Autrsia-Hungary’s turn to be confused. He’d heard swallowing it was erotic for many, and that’s what Kaiserreich did, so he’d try it. Though, he didn’t have the same balance and ended up choking some. Kaiserreich spared him any shame and gently pat his back, encouraging him to tilt his head down until his throat was clear again.

“S-sorry…” Austria-Hungary said hoarsely.

Kaiserreich was washed in pity and tightened his hold around the Austro-Hungarian, pecking his ear and nape and he could breathe normally.

“There is no shame. You’ve never done this, right?”

“Ah… no, I haven’t,” Austria-Hungary murmured.

“Then relax. There is no fault or disappointment. I’m proud of you.” The praise that Austria-Hungary strived for had finally reached his ears. And in the aftermath, his head was finally cleared by it. He turned his head to kiss Kaiserreich back.

“Should I stay, or…? If my parents find us again, especially like this, it’ll be hellfire.” Austria-Hungary leaned into Kaiserreich’s chest and embrace.

“So be it.” He hissed firmly. “I don’t want to disappear from you again. Perhaps we should redress and wake up on time.”

“Right.” Austria-Hungary tossed them their designated clothes back, wiping any sweat with the bottom of the bedsheets.

“Gute nacht, mein Liebe.” Kaiserreich whispered, spooning his partner.

“Gute nacht, Liebling.” He replied, smiling as slumber finally swept him up.

Chapter Text

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Hopefully that loads because I'm doing this all from my phone and it won't let me upload pictures normally. :,)

Chapter Text

         The morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Austria-Hungary stirred first, his body nestled against the strong frame of Kaiserreich. His skin still tingled from the intensity of the night before, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction weighing on him. Kaiserreich’s arms tightened around him slightly as he woke, his stoic expression softening for just a moment as he looked down at Austria-Hungary. The man was breathtaking in the morning light, his hair tousled and a faint flush still dusting his cheeks.

“You’re awake,” Kaiserreich said quietly, his voice low and steady.

Austria-Hungary blinked up at him, his face immediately heating under the weight of Kaiserreich’s gaze. “I... yes,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

They lingered for a moment longer before the weight of reality began to creep back in. Austria-Hungary sat up reluctantly, brushing his hair back into place and reaching for his discarded shirt. “I should go before someone comes looking for me,” he said, his tone laced with nervousness.

Kaiserreich sat up as well, watching him with a calm but unreadable expression. “Do you really think they don’t already suspect something?”

Austria-Hungary froze for a moment, his shirt halfway on. “I’d rather not give them proof,” he said, pulling the fabric over his head and fumbling with the buttons.

But before he could reach the door, Kaiserreich moved with startling speed, pinning Austria-Hungary against the wall. His hand rested firmly on the younger man’s shoulder, his other reaching for the collar of his shirt.

“Kaiserreich?” Austria-Hungary stammered, his heart racing as the taller man leaned in.

Kaiserreich tugged the collar down, revealing the dark bruises scattered across his neck and collarbone. His eyes narrowed slightly, his thumb brushing over one of the marks. “These,” he said, his voice steady but edged with something sharper, “are Nachtkrapp’s doing.”

Austria-Hungary’s breath hitched, his face flushing with embarrassment. He bit his lip, unsure of how to respond, but the heat in Kaiserreich’s gaze left him unable to look away. Kaiserreich studied him for a moment longer before his suspicion deepened. Without a word, he slid his hands down to the buttons of Austria-Hungary’s shirt, unfastening them one by one.

Austria-Hungary tensed, his protests dying in his throat as Kaiserreich revealed the full extent of Nachtkrapp’s handiwork.

Dozens of bruises, deep and dark, were scattered across his chest and shoulders, each one unmistakably a mark of possession. Kaiserreich’s jaw tightened, his usually composed demeanor slipping as he traced a finger over the evidence.

“This is... excessive,” he said, his voice low but laced with irritation.

Austria-Hungary’s face burned, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself, though he didn’t pull away. “I—it was Nachtkrapp,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“I can see that,” Kaiserreich replied, his tone clipped. His gaze softened slightly as he looked at Austria-Hungary’s flushed face. “And you let him?”

Austria-Hungary hesitated, his embarrassment warring with the lingering arousal from the night before. “He’s... protective,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “And I didn’t stop him.”

Kaiserreich let out a low sigh, his fingers brushing lightly over one of the marks. “He’s insistent,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But he doesn’t know when to hold back.”

Austria-Hungary shivered at the touch, his hands dropping to his sides as he met Kaiserreich’s gaze. “Do you mind?” he asked softly.

Kaiserreich’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Austria-Hungary’s temple. “No,” he said quietly. “But next time, it’ll be me leaving the marks.”

Austria-Hungary’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as he processed the words. The weight of Kaiserreich’s promise sent a rush of heat through him, and he found himself leaning into the older man’s touch.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he whispered, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite his lingering embarrassment.

Kaiserreich chuckled softly, his lips brushing against Austria-Hungary’s as he murmured, “You should go before breakfast gets cold.” Austria-Hungary nodded, though his legs felt weak as he pulled himself together and redressed.

Even as he left the room, his heart was racing, and he couldn’t stop the small, satisfied smile that crept onto his face.

---

The dining hall was quieter than usual that evening, the absence of the Austrian Empire and the Hungarian Empire creating a noticeable void in the room's atmosphere. The servants bustled about, setting down plates and pouring drinks, but their movements felt subdued.

Austria-Hungary, seated next to Kaiserreich, tugged nervously at his collar, his gaze darting occasionally toward Vienna, who sat across from them.

Vienna offered a kind smile as she unfolded her napkin. “I apologize on behalf of your fathers,” she said, her tone warm but edged with concern. “They wanted to join us, but they’re attending to urgent matters. Something to do with the investigation into your would-be assassin.”

Austria-Hungary’s stomach tightened at the mention. He’d managed to push the incident out of his mind for most of the day, but the reminder sent a chill down his spine. “I understand,” he said softly, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.

Kaiserreich remained silent, his expression stoic as always, though his hand brushed briefly against Austria-Hungary’s under the table—a small, grounding gesture.

Vienna glanced between them, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity before her expression softened. “They’re very sorry they couldn’t be here,” she continued. “But they hope you’ll understand. They’re doing everything they can to ensure your safety, Austria-Hungary.”

“I do,” he replied, offering a small, grateful smile.

The conversation shifted to lighter topics as dinner was served, with Vienna sharing anecdotes about her day and asking casual questions about Austria-Hungary’s and Kaiserreich’s plans for the rest of the week. The mood gradually relaxed, and even Austria-Hungary found himself smiling more genuinely as he listened to Vienna’s stories.

But as the plates were cleared and dessert was brought out, Vienna’s gaze lingered on Austria-Hungary, her head tilting slightly as if she’d noticed something peculiar.

“Why is your collar up like that?” she asked suddenly, her tone light but curious. “You hardly ever wear it like that. It’s quite a formal look for dinner.”

Austria-Hungary froze, his fork pausing mid-air. His face flushed instantly, and he quickly set the utensil down, fumbling for a response. “Oh, uh... it’s... just a bit chilly tonight,” he stammered, avoiding her gaze.

Vienna raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Chilly? It’s a warm evening, and the fire’s been roaring since before you arrived.”

“I just felt like a change,” he said quickly, tugging at the fabric as if to make his excuse seem more plausible.

Kaiserreich, ever composed, took a sip of his wine, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Perhaps he’s starting a new fashion trend,” he said, his voice calm but laced with subtle amusement.

Vienna glanced between the two of them, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were piecing together a puzzle. “Hmm,” she mused, leaning back in her chair. “Well, it’s a good look for you, I suppose. Very dashing.”

“Thank you,” Austria-Hungary mumbled, his face still burning as he busied himself with his dessert.

Vienna didn’t press the matter further, though the glint in her eyes suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced. Austria-Hungary stole a glance at Kaiserreich, who met his gaze with an uncharacteristically soft expression, as if silently reassuring him.

The rest of the meal passed without incident, but Austria-Hungary couldn’t shake the lingering heat in his cheeks—or the way Vienna’s knowing smile seemed to follow him long after they’d left the table.

***

The room was dimly lit, the heavy drapes drawn tight against the fading evening light. A single oil lamp flickered on the desk, casting dancing shadows on the faces of the Austrian Empire and the Hungarian Empire. The air was thick with tension as the two men pored over a stack of reports, each page laden with grim details and frustrating dead ends.

The Austrian Empire leaned back in his chair, his fingers pressed to his temples as he let out a long, slow breath. "So, the assassin... he's dead?" His voice was low, clipped with irritation.

The Hungarian Empire nodded solemnly, his expression equally grim. "Suicide, according to the reports. A guard found him hanging in his cell three days ago. It seems he used a strip of his own clothing."

"Damn it," the Austrian Empire muttered, slamming a hand down on the desk. The papers rustled in response, a few slipping to the floor. "We were so close to getting answers. Now we're back to chasing shadows."

The Hungarian Empire bent to retrieve the fallen documents, his movements careful and deliberate. "Not entirely," he said, placing the pages back on the desk. "The investigators managed to trace some of his connections before his death. He wasn’t acting alone."

The Austrian Empire straightened, his eyes narrowing. "Go on."

The Hungarian Empire gestured to a particular sheet, marked with hastily scrawled notes. "The assassin was in contact with several individuals in Vienna over the past few months. One of those contacts is believed to be the one who hired him. We're narrowing down the list, but it’s clear this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment act. This was planned."

The Austrian Empire’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking over the names on the report. "Planned by someone with resources, influence... and a clear motive."

The Hungarian Empire nodded. "Exactly. And considering the target was Austria-Hungary, we have to consider who stands to gain the most from his death—or even his destabilization. This wasn’t just about him personally. It was an attack on what he represents."

The Austrian Empire rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his mind racing through the possibilities. "The alliance proposals... his rising influence... someone wanted to stop him before he could truly step into his role as the future of this empire."

"And before he could solidify connections with Kaiserreich," the Hungarian Empire added pointedly. "That alliance could shift the balance of power significantly. There are plenty of nations—plenty of people—who would see that as a threat."

The Austrian Empire sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of the revelation.

"We need to find out who hired that man. If we don't root this out, there could be another attempt. I won’t let anyone harm my son."

The Hungarian Empire placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. "We’ll get to the bottom of this. The investigators are working around the clock, and I’ve called in a few of my own people from Budapest. We’ll find the one responsible."

The Austrian Empire gave a curt nod, though the tension in his posture didn’t ease. "We need answers, and soon. Every day we don’t know who’s behind this is another day Austria-Hungary is at risk."

The Hungarian Empire hesitated for a moment before speaking. "And we need to consider how we approach him about this. He has a right to know, but... we need to be careful. He’s strong, but something like this could shake anyone."

"I’ll speak to him when the time is right," the Austrian Empire said firmly. "But not until we have something concrete. I don’t want to alarm him without reason."

The two men exchanged a solemn look, their shared determination clear. The task ahead was daunting, but neither would rest until the truth was uncovered—and Austria-Hungary was safe once more.

***

The soft hum of chatter from the dining room faded as Vienna tugged Austria-Hungary into the adjacent parlor. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, her grip surprisingly firm for someone so petite. The warmth of the room's fireplace enveloped them, and the faint scent of lilacs from the fresh bouquet on the mantle added a cozy touch to the space.

“Alright, spill it,” Vienna said, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she spun to face him. Her expression was one of barely contained excitement, a stark contrast to Austria-Hungary’s growing embarrassment.

“What?” Austria-Hungary stammered, his cheeks already beginning to burn. He straightened his collar, an unconscious attempt to shield himself from her probing gaze.

Vienna placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t play coy with me. You and Kaiserreich. Something’s going on, isn’t it?”

Austria-Hungary opened his mouth to protest, but Vienna cut him off with a knowing grin. “Oh, don’t even try to deny it. I saw the way you two were looking at each other during breakfast. And those little... marks on your neck? Please, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He groaned, his hand flying up to his collar as if he could somehow hide the evidence she’d already noticed. “Vienna, it’s not... it’s complicated,” he mumbled, his voice trailing off.

“Complicated?” she echoed, tilting her head. “So, you admit there’s something going on!”

“Would you lower your voice?” he hissed, glancing nervously at the door.

Vienna giggled, clearly enjoying his flustered state. “Fine, fine. But you are going to tell me everything. I mean it, Austria. Don’t make me start guessing, because I will—and I’m usually right.”

Austria-Hungary sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew there was no escaping this.

“Alright, fine. Yes, there’s... something. I don’t know what to call it yet, but we’re—” He paused, searching for the right words.

“Romantic?” Vienna offered helpfully, her grin widening.

He nodded reluctantly. “Yes, but it’s more than that. Kaiserreich is... different. He’s stoic, yes, but there’s a warmth to him. And when we’re together, it’s like he understands me in ways I didn’t even know I needed to be understood.”

Vienna clapped her hands together, her delight evident. “That’s wonderful, Austria! He’s clearly smitten with you, too. You can see it in the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the room that matters.”

Austria-Hungary’s blush deepened, and he glanced away, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “It’s just... difficult, Vienna. Father doesn’t approve. He thinks Kaiserreich is just ‘Prussia’s boy’ and can’t be trusted.”

Vienna’s smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze his arm. “Your father loves you, Austria. He’s just being overprotective. But if Kaiserreich is really the one for you, then you’ll find a way to make it work. And I’ll be here to support you every step of the way.”

Her sincerity brought a lump to his throat, and he gave her a grateful nod. “Thank you, Vienna. That means a lot.”

She beamed at him, her bubbly demeanor returning in full force. “Of course! Now, tell me—who kissed who first?”

Austria-Hungary groaned again, but this time it was accompanied by a laugh. “Vienna!”

“What?” she asked innocently, though her grin betrayed her amusement. “I need details!”