Title: Madness Waltz
Author: sithmarauder
Pairing(s): Bavaria/Austria; vague, unsubstantial hints of Prussia/Austria
Disclaimer: Hetalia and all affiliated characters do not (and will never) belong to me.
Dedications: Snow . inZodiac, who is not only an awesome reviewer, but a fantastically patient individual. Thanks for putting up with me, and sorry it took me so long to fulfill the request (:

So I started writing something, but around five pages in I just… argh. It just didn't work for what was really requested, you know? Plus, it was freakishly historical, and not everyone enjoys copious amounts of German history like I do, so I sat banging my head on a keyboard and trying to come up with something more suitable and less… serious? I may have failed at that particular part, but… eh.
I tried to make this pretty and gorgeous, but considering the idea came to me whilst I was trying to sleep through a fever (and written while still having that fever, which still has not gone away, the bloody thing) I'm not sure how it really turned out. Still, I hope you enjoy it, SiV, and thank you for being such a lovely, patient person.

-x-

"You're still not doing it right, Prussia. You are moving too fast, and it looks uncoordinated and shambolic," Austria said, his hands stilling over the keys as he turned to give the albino nation an almost exasperated look. Really, did he have to be so inherently difficult? "We went over this, remember?"

"But Specs, it's boring," Prussia whined, shaking his head as he crossed his arms almost petulantly over his chest. "This is so pointless! I won't even be doing this again, so why does my awesome self even have to learn it? 'Sides, it's stupid. And not awesome."

Austria's eyes flashed in irritation, but before he could answer Germany cut in, heaving a sigh that spoke of someone long-suffering. "It's a useful skill, and you will need to know this for today's meeting," he explained gruffly. "It's not our fault you never learned before now."

Austria watched as Prussia grinned, feeling the familiar annoyance settle itself in the pit of his stomach. "It's because I'm awesome, West – I was too busy beating the little master over there to worry about uncool things like dancing! That's what girls do, after all!"

"Men dance too, bruder," Germany reminded him firmly, and Austria tried to calm the surge of anger he felt towards the now-familiar slight. "You need both a man and a woman to do it properly." Prussia sneezed, but otherwise didn't answer him, instead sauntering over to Austria, who was watching them both with a disapproving expression on his face.

"Maybe you could have told me that, instead of making me dance it by myself."

"Fool. You need to grasp the rhythm of it before I even consider letting you dance with someone else," Austria replied firmly, brushing one finger over the genuine ivory key of Germany's piano.

"Prick," Prussia sneered. "All right then, you dance with me."

"I beg your pardon?" Austria replied, affronted. "I will do no such thing – Prussia, let go of me!"

"No can do, little master," Prussia purred, glancing down at him, and Austria was aware that his face looked flustered. He straightened then, snatching his hand back before straightening his spine and glaring lightly at the juvenile nation across from him.

"Fine," he said, tone clipped. "Germany, find some music. You are such a child, Prussia."

He saw Germany glance over at them with hesitation, but Austria only nodded to show he was serious. "I'll find Bavaria – he can play the violin well enough."

Prussia snickered as Germany left the room, but Austria soon commanded his attention, knowing he would probably regret this within the span of a few minutes. "You will be leading, so put one hand on around waist – no, you fool, not like that," Austria snapped, grabbing the other's hand and ignoring the snigger from the other nation. "Around the small of my back – yes, right there. Now, extend your left hand…"

-x-

By the time Bavaria arrived in the room, they were arguing again.

"Kesese! See, I told you you were a woman, little master."

"It is only because I can dance both parts, whereas you can only dance one, Prussia, and barely that!"

"Yeah, exactly, so you must have been the woman to someone else for you to have even learned it in the first place."

"Quiet, you fool!"

"Am I interrupted something?" Bavaria asked wryly, his eyes darkening as he saw Prussia's hand tighten almost instinctively on the small of Austria's back. He held up his violin, straightening. "I was told to come down here and play, but it seems you cannot even grasp the basics of a dance that was invented by your own people, saupreiss damischer."

"Hey!" Prussia started, but was silenced when Austria covered his mouth with an idle finger. Bavaria's eyes narrowed further, but he said nothing. For a few moments there was silence before Austria turned to him, nodding once.

"Bavaria," he greeted cordially, "thank you for coming." Bavaria just shrugged, not taking his eyes off of Prussia, who was glaring back at him. If Austria noticed – which he surely did – he said nothing, instead turning back to the albino nation, resting a slender hand on the Prussian's right shoulder. "Take my right hand, Prussia," Austria commanded then, and Bavaria suppressed a hissed when Prussia did so, glancing at him once with a smirk that Austria didn't see. Bavaria pulled out his violin, resting the instrument under his chin as he raised the bow.

"On the first beat, step forward with your left foot – gracefully, Prussia! This is not a battlefield, and you are not a soldier," Austria snapped.

"Cool it, little master," Prussia replied. "Don't get your panties in a twist."

Austria huffed, shaking his head. "On the second beat, step forward and to the right with your right foot," he instructed, moving accordingly as Prussia went to carry out his instructions. "Shift your weight to your right foot…"

Bavaria watched this for a couple more minutes as Austria outlined the steps needed, though it was obvious his patience was wearing thin. With a straight face, Bavaria started playing a basic melody as they completed a small circle, resisting the urge to sneer at the Prussian. In Bavaria's opinion, that pig was no match for the grace which Austria exuded naturally, and it was a shame to see such elegance wasted in such a task, or with a partner that could never hope to even match him.

Eventually they stopped, Prussia's hand lingering longer than it needed to. Austria said nothing. But Bavaria did.

"Adequate, for a Preissn," he said coldly, placing the violin lightly in its case. "But you're still hopeless. Would you like to see how it's really done?"

"Pshaw, like you could do better than my awesome," Prussia said.

Bavaria sneered primly at him before bowing and holding out a hand to Austria, who merely raised a singular eyebrow before taking his hand and stepping confidently away from Prussia.

The position was almost instinctive. His right hand came to rest around Austria's waist, settling nicely against his back, one hand extending lightly for Austria to take, which he did before settling a hand on Bavaria's right shoulder.

"Ready?" Bavaria asked, watching Prussia pick up the violin out of the corner of his eyes.

Austria just glanced at him once, nodding stiffly. "Be quick," he murmured, "for the others will be here soon."

When the music began, the movements came to him naturally – movements that Austria mirrored with the grace Bavaria so admired. When he stepped forward, Austria stepped back, their actions in perfect sync, as they were when he stepped back on the fourth beat, and soon he found himself almost lost in the music and a framiliar partnership he hadn't felt in years, back when he wore not modern clothes but rich velvets and jewels that sparkled under the light of a thousand candles from the chandelier shining above. In an instant Germany's music hall vanished, replaced by the magnificent ballroom in Vienna, with hundreds of people whirling and twirling around them, too caught up in their own dances to notice the two finely-dressed countries as they spun and moved, never missing a beat, even when the music began to speed up lightly. When it did, he pulled Austria closer, remembering that this was where the dance had been born, that this was the Austrian's natural element, here among the finery and the nobles and the beautiful music of an orchestra whose members were long since dead.

"The people were dancing mad. The ladies of Vienna are particularly celebrated for their grace and movements of waltzing of which they never tire." The words of Don Curzio echoed in his head, and Bavaria resisted the urge to breathe in sharply, vaguely aware that there were other people in the room now, and someone had struck up the piano, with a flute joining in. His vision was too occupied by Austria though, whose violet eyes sparked with a fire Bavaria remembered from the other man's days as keeper of the Holy Roman Empire, and he longed to return to those days when the halls of Vienna's palace were filled with people, dancing and laughing as they waltzed far into the night, their jewellery glimmering and flashing as they moved passed, lost in a swirl of colours and finery. Glancing down at Austria again, Bavaria allowed his normally sharp eyes to soften.

The man was still as beautiful as he had been all those centuries ago, even without the silks of yellow, blue and red adorning his person.

The music began to slow almost unnoticeably then, and with it so did the two dancing nations, until they finally came to a complete stop, and Austria seemed to noticed the nations that had suddenly gathered in the room. Hungary was pressing a handkerchief to her eyes, beaming with happiness, whilst Germany stood next to North Italy looking slightly uncomfortable. Prussia, he realized, must have traded the violin in for the flute he had heard, and was looking a mixture between annoyed and grudgingly impressed as he lowered the silver instrument. England, Bavaria noted, held the violin now, and he gave the green-eyed nation a short nod, which was returned with an amused smirk as America whined something in his ear.

From the piano, Canada flushed a bright red, quickly standing up and mumbling something about France before stepping back into the crowd, quickly becoming invisible amongst their ranks.

Germany coughed, and Bavaria saw Austria's mask slide across his face, the cold and polite one he always wore when in the company of others. He moved to step away, but before he could, Bavaria caught his hand, bringing it to his lips.

"Ich bin Ihnen sehr dankbar," he said formally, using the common German dialect instead of his own. For a moment, Austria paused, looking a tad been thrown off balance, but he gave a curt nod.

"Gern geschehen," he said simply before turning to the other nations, greeting them in the same formal tone as everyone began moving again, the spell of the madness waltz breaking at last.

Bavaria, for his part, merely returned to his post at the edge of the room, taking up temporary residence next to his brother Saxony, who sent him a knowing smirk as Bavaria's eyes continued to trace Austria's movements across the room, thought trains racing through his head. He couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if the room had been empty – if the other nations hadn't been standing there, as enraptured by their movements as Bavaria himself had been. He wondered, almost idly, whether, instead of a kiss to the hand, it would have been a soft press of the lips, and whether Austria would have stood for it or not.

"Bavaria," France greeted, his blue eyes sparking wickedly. "Eet eez nice to see you again; eet 'as been, 'ow you say, awhile, non?"

"Yes, it has," Bavaria responded, feeling his own façade sliding into play, as it had during the secret meeting of nations back in the 1700s.

But as France led him through the room, he lifted his head, catching Austria's eye once before giving a short nod, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face.

For now, it was enough.

-x-

Ich bin Ihnen sehr dankbar - I'm very grateful/thankful to you

Gern geschehen – it was my pleasure

saupreiss damischer - "Stupid Prussian pig," literally translates to "stupid pig Prussian." Thanks to Cadaska on dA.

So there you go (: Again, I am sorry for the wait, and how they never technically did anything.

A little bit of history: the waltz was a very popular dances in the courts of Vienna, particularly around the time of the American Revolution (1776), which was only a decade or so after the massive, almost World War known as the Seven Years War (or, for something more German-specific, the Third Silesian War). It derived itself from traditional German folkdances (specifically in Austria, but also Southern Germany), and there were many variations of it such as the Geschwindwalzer and the Galloppwalzer, which were both more fast-paced verisons of the waltz.

Don Curzio is a character from Mozart's opera buffa The Marriage of Figaro.

Thank you for reading!