A/N: So I promised myself I wouldn't post this until I actually had it finished. Shows how much self-control I have, I suppose. Ah well, I have the whole thing planned out, that's almost as good as having it actually written... right...? Anyway, enjoy. And feedback would be greatly appreciated... I worked hard on this baby.

Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia, nor am I making any profit off of this story other than my own amusement.

Summary: Murder Mystery AU set in 1892. Arthur Kirkland is a wealthy lawyer with little family left. As a result, his loneliness drives him to throw parties for friends and acquaintances at his mansion. However the party this evening turns out to be a lot more than dinner and games...

Warnings: Slash. (Though not in this chapter.) That means relationships of the male/male variety. Also blood... possibly gore... and definitely a few Mature Audiences Only scenes. Have fun.

Iniquity and Intrigue

Chapter the First: In Which Most of The Guests Arrive, and The Prussian Causes a Disturbance (Or Two.)

The first knock came at five, a tad early for a dinner party as it were, but then punctuality was in general terms praised as a virtue. Besides, someone had to be first. Arthur only wished that the someone, or someones as the case was, didn't happen to be the Beilschmidt brothers. He hadn't a thing against the two Germans, really, the younger was in fact quite agreeable, as well behaved or better than any young gentleman Arthur Kirkland had come across. But the elder...

"Hallo Eyebrows!" Gilbert Beilschmidt's unusually sharp-toothed grin glinted with the glare of the entrance hall's lights. The albino man was the polar opposite of his brother. It was a complete mystery where Ludwig had obtained his manners, seeing as how he'd been raised more or less solely by his wild brother. "West's obsessed with times and dates and all that stuff. I told him it's better to be fashionably late, 'specially in this day and age, but would he listen? Noooo..." Arthur cleared his throat before Gilbert could get into stride, so to speak, with his spiel.

"In any case, I'm glad you could make it." Arthur lied with a barefaced smile. "Do come in, no one else has arrived yet, I'll show you to the drawing room..." He stepped back to let them in, and the Germans stepped inside, Ludwig nodding politely, an apologetic expression on his face. Arthur nodded back, hoping his own expression conveyed that he was quite used to Gilbert's ill behaviour and didn't hold Ludwig accountable in the slightest.

"Don't bother, we know where it is." Gilbert tilted his head towards the hall, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I think I saw Specs and the ex-Missus comin' up behind us anyway." Without further ado, he tugged on his brother's sleeve, leading the resigned blonde towards the familiar place of gathering at Arthur's mansion. Arthur sighed to himself, relieved and exasperated in one. He turned back to the door... just in time, as indeed Herr Edelstein and Madame Hedervary had arrived, the former's sharp, refined rap identifiable at once. Arthur didn't feel any sort of surprise, this was all in due course. The Germans always arrived first, it was just as natural as the Italians always arriving last, and considerably late at that. Less expected was the presence of the American, Alfred Jones, standing just behind the former couple.

"Hey Arthur!" Alfred's radiant smile completely wiped away any objection Arthur may have had to his informality. Of course, he and Alfred were quite intimate, the tall blond having been raised alongside him, not unlike a brother. However they had grown considerably apart, so to speak, and Arthur wasn't sure (or at least wasn't ready to admit to himself) why he made efforts to keep up the acquaintance. Yet he did, and here Alfred was, right on time... for once. Generally it was a rare event for him to show up more than a few minutes earlier than the Italian twins.

"Arthur, thank you for the invitation." The lightly accented tones of the aristocratic Herr Edelstein were as politely clipped as ever. Although the man could be stuffy and condescending even by Arthur's standards, when he relaxed he was one of the most pleasant conversationalists to be had, and if nothing else he was always well-mannered. Well... almost always, excepting certain circumstances. Specifically ones regarding Gilbert Beilschmidt.

"Of course Roderich, thank you for coming. You as well Elizaveta, Alfred." Arthur nodded with a genuine smile, holding the door open for his friends.

"Did you re-decorate?" Madame Elizaveta Hedervary questioned brightly. A sweet lady with quite the temper when roused, she had once been married to Edelstein but unexplained events had caused them to separate, although they appeared to remain on friendly terms and were often seen together regardless.

"I added a few new paintings, but I would hardly say I re-decorated." Arthur explained, leading the way to the sitting room this time. Ludwig was seated neatly in one of the armchairs, examining a magazine on automobiles with some interest. Gilbert was nowhere to be seen, and Arthur couldn't decide if this was a blessing or cause for alarm...

"Ludwig, early as ever." Roderich greeted, Ludwig stood immediately, waiting as any decent gentleman for Elizaveta to choose a chair before taking his seat again.

"Yes, the same could be said of you." Ludwig replied, running a hand over his cleanly slicked back hair. "You've been well I trust? All three of you, I mean." He added, nodding to Elizaveta and Alfred.

"I've been great!" Alfred answered before the others could get a chance. "Wait 'til I tell you. It's been so awesome-"

"Did someone say something about awesome?" Gilbert's head appeared from around one of the bookshelves in the room, startling Arthur (and apparently Roderich) rather badly. He smirked at the sight, emerging entirely and walking over to tweak a loose curl of Roderich's otherwise straight brown locks. "You should learn to walk faster Specs, though not wearing girly boots might help." Roderich swatted at the hand tugging on his hair, understandably irritable.

"And you should learn how to behave. Honestly, Gilbert, keep your hands to yourself." Roderich pushed his glasses up his nose with two long, slim fingers. Gilbert laughed rudely, and Arthur excused himself on the pretext of waiting for the other guests at the door, eager to avoid any scenes that might occur...

The mahogany-paneled hallway was a relief yet again, although the breather didn't last. The next of the invited did indeed arrive quickly, an entire group at once, although when Arthur opened the door this time he could see little else for the gigantic form of Ivan Braginski all but filling the doorframe.

"Privyet!" Few things on this Earth were as nervewracking as Braginski's smile, but as the second highest-ranking associate in Arthur's exceedingly prestigious law firm, it was necessary to keep up a healthy relationship with the big Russian. The fact that he was a direct path to the best quality of vodka available was hardly describable as a motive, really.

"Welcome, Ivan, so glad you could make it." Arthur managed a polite enough smile in return, standing aside and pulling the door wider. Braginski entered, stomping flakes of snow off his boots and prompting Arthur to glance outside in surprise at the falling snow. It wasn't unusual for this time of year, but the forecast in the paper had been for clear skies. Ah well, meteorology was hardly an exact science, being merely recently developed at that. More surprising was the presence of Toris Laurinaitis, Feliks Lukasiewicz, Eduard von Bock, and Raivis Galante on his doorstep. Although he was always sure to extend an invitation to all his friendly colleagues, it was rare to see these four anywhere near a function that included Braginski if they could possibly help it. Arthur had never inquired towards the reasons for this, though the curiousity was a constant gnaw in his gut when the subject came to mind. Nonetheless, he greeted them pleasantly and led the group to the parlour, where it appeared that Roderich had seated himself at the grand piano.

It was with great reluctance that Arthur left the room again. No one played the piano quite as beautifully as Roderich Edelstein, but there were still several guests who had yet to arrive, and Arthur's manners would not allow him to risk not hearing the knocking over the piano's music. Besides, he could just hear the faint echoes of the performance from down the hall, so it wasn't as if he were missing it entirely. As Arthur turned to be sure that there was still room on the coatrack, he bumped into someone and jolted back.

"Ah- my apologies, I didn't reali- Matthew?" Arthur blinked, stunned, at Alfred's gentle twin, the boy's lavender eyes clouded with worry. While Alfred had been raised by his father in the house next door to Arthur's, Matthew had been taken to Canada by the pair's mother, and it was only a few years ago that the two had reunited. Nevertheless, the twins were now very attached in the manner of brothers, and Arthur had become quite fond of Matthew, though his sudden unexplained appearance was a shock.

"No, it was my fault, I'm sorry Arthur!" Matthew Williams stepped closer, looking him over as if to be sure he'd done no harm. Arthur stared in blank confusion.

"Not at all, I'm fine, just- er... how exactly did you get in? I've been watching the door and I didn't even hear you knock..." Arthur trailed off as Matthew's face fell, the youth practically shrinking in on himself.

"Oh..." Matthew said miserably. "I came in with Alfred and the others earlier..." Arthur winced, not for a moment doubting the truth of the statement. He liked Matthew, truly, but the boy was unfortunately easy to overlook. "I... I was just behind Alfred I... expect you simply didn't see me, eh?"

"Oh, yes, of course that's it. Terribly sorry Matthew..." Arthur tried a smile, but Matthew looked no less distressed, so Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I am glad you're here." Matthew brightened considerably at that, giving Arthur a small, but warm smile.

"Thank you." He replied. "Anyway, I only came to retrieve something from my coat pocket, I'll just return to the others now and not disturb you further." Arthur hesitated for a moment as Matthew turned and began walking back down the hall, but then he reached out to catch the other man's wrist.

"No, do stay! It's, ah, it's just terribly dull waiting here by myself." Arthur paused, "I mean, that is, if you don't mind leaving the party for a moment. I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep you..." Matthew's smile was much wider now, some of the shyness having dropped away, and he shifted to pull his wrist out of Arthur's grasp and clasp his hand instead.

"I don't mind at all, of course I'll stay." He replied, and Arthur breathed an internal sigh of relief that he'd managed to undo the damage. He and Matthew shared several minutes of pleasant conversation, discussing mainly the latest Sherlock Holmes story to have appeared in The Strand. They were interrupted briefly when Arthur had to open the door for Kiku Honda and Yao Wang, polite Asian ambassadors that Arthur had met several times at various societal parties. He'd taken quite a liking to Kiku, and Yao hovered over the Japanese boy like a protective parent. He took them to the parlour with a brief warning about Gilbert, gave introductions, and returned to fetch Matthew. It was no good waiting for the Italians, they'd be wasting half the evening away.

...Although, upon being only a few steps away from a book to the face upon re-entering the parlour, wasting half the evening in the safety of the hall might not be entirely devoid of credit. The book, a respectably thick history of law, embedded itself in a decorative vase in the corner of the room. Arthur traced it's trajectory back to an incensed Roderich, sans spectacles, who was glaring at Gilbert, wearing aforementioned spectacles.

"Haha, maybe you do need 'em, if your aim's that awful!" The Prussian was laughing, failing to notice Elizaveta creeping up behind him and-

"Excuse me!" Arthur said loudly, not wanting an all-out brawl to take place. The belligerents froze, turning to look at the Englishman with mixed expressions of shame (Roderich), amusement (Gilbert), and expectancy (Elizaveta). Arthur cleared his throat before continuing as reasonably as possible. "I don't mean to interrupt your... ah... discussion, however I would ask that while within my home you make an attempt to get along? At least as far as throwing things and nicking others' possessions goes." He aimed the greatest intensity of his displeasure at Gilbert. The older Beilschmidt rolled his eyes, but removed the spectacles and tossed them back at Roderich haphazardly.

"Sure thing, Eyebrows. Not my fault if the maestro here can't keep his temper in check, though." Gilbert collapsed onto the sofa his brother was occupying, Ludwig currently hiding his face in his hands and giving off every sign of embarrassment by association. Arthur felt a great swell of pity for the blonde, and resolved not to pursue the incident further as he went to retrieve the abused book from it's current place in the corner vase.

The parlour itself bears the dignity of being described at this point, the room for one thing being quite spacious, and it would have to be in order to accomodate the numerous guests. The decor was in reds, golds, and beige colours to give off a suitably vibrant atmosphere for conversation and gatherings. Entering through the door, one would see a seating area against the back wall, furnished with three long red Chesterfield sofas and seven matching armchairs arranged around a tea and biscuit laden coffee table in a manner pleasing enough to the eye, although the slightly crowded feeling caused by the sheer number of the pieces couldn't be helped. The left wall was half covered with a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, as found in many of Arthur's public rooms despite his also possessing a library in the back of the house. The pianoforte sat in the corner just to the left of the doorway, next to the bookshelf, the cherrywood bench pulled out still from where Roderich had been sitting. Housed on the right wall was a fireplace, situated nearer the seating area, and closer to the door was a window that was partially obscured by the pot into which the book had been thrown. Upon glancing out this window, Arthur took the time to stoke the fire after he had retrieved the book. They would be needing of the heat if the increasingly heavy snowfall outside was any indication.

Arthur crossed the room to replace the book in it's proper position on the alphabetized bookshelf, and turned to see how his guests were faring.

This much could be said; no one had yet stooped to projectiles again. Alfred was on one of the Chesterfields, engaged in conversation with Braginski, whose frozen smile seemed to grow tighter at every happily babbled word from the American. Matthew had taken a seat slightly apart from the rest of the party, looking about nervously, and Arthur was slightly stunned when the Canadian's eyes darted briefly to Ivan and Alfred and his expression turned uncharacteristically dark. Arthur tried to determine which of the two Matthew's sudden glare was directed at, but then Matthew had caught his eye and was smiling again, giving him a shy wave. Arthur nodded, forcing a smile onto his face and pushing the discrepancy into the back of his mind. Toris and his adoptive brothers were sitting on the sofa closest to the fire, apparently struggling to get a word in edgewise with the chattering Feliks. Arthur spent a moment thinking he should like to see Feliks and Alfred get to talking sometime to find which was greater at the art of dominating a conversation. Then he fully pictured the idea and shuddered, grateful that the two were seated quite at opposite corners of the area.

Gilbert and Ludwig sat upon the center sofa, Ludwig busy speaking in low, apologetic tones to Roderich while Gilbert brazenly attempted to court Elizaveta, who appeared trapped between amusement and the urge to begin another altercation.

Arthur moved closer to his party, drawn to the two silent Asians, sipping at the provided tea. He noticed that they kept themselves in strict control, although Yao less so, his distaste was evident enough despite it not being precisely clear where he was directing it. Arthur took an educated guess that it was at the tea, a fine brand of Earl Grey, very different from the Oriental brands that they were likely accustomed to. Arthur kicked himself for not thinking to set out something more to their liking, and immediately apologized, earning a brief moment of surprise from the two before their calm demeanours were restored.

"It is quite alright, Arthur-san." Kiku said with the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "We are in England, after all, it is only natural that an English party in England would consist of English victuals." Yao nodded stiffly, though his gaze had moved elsewhere, and Arthur was too preoccupied to follow it.

"Well, all the same, I should have considered you seeing as I am the one extending the invitation. I do have some rather pleasant Chinese brands in the cellar, I'm sure my maid wouldn't find it too troublesome to fetch some for you." He assured them, already rising to go for the cords by the door that led down to the bells in the kitchen.

"What the hell is your problem!?"

Arthur's head whipped around again, eyes widening at the rare sight of a genuinely livid Gilbert Beilschmidt. Gilbert's extreme self-centeredness gave him an absurdly difficult to rouse temper, too often insults would bounce off the armor of his arrogance harmlessly or be caught and turned back on their speaker through sheer pig-headedness. However, once the damp wick sparked it wasn't long before fireworks ensued. Someone had clearly managed to set him off and, well, one look at his face was enough to tell he wasn't just shouting for the sake of being impressive, as Arthur might normally have assumed. Pale lips were drawn back in an animalistic snarl, ruby eyes glinting with ferocity, and Arthur wasn't surprised to note that the entire room seemed to have frozen when he realized the one at the receiving end of that look was none other than Ivan Braginski. Hadn't he been speaking to Alfred just moments ago? The American had not changed seats, neither did he look confused, so Gilbert must simply have joined their conversation at some point.

"Whatever is wrong, I'm sure it can be resolved!" Arthur cried, rising to his feet to play mediator once again. Perhaps this dinner party hadn't been such a brilliant idea, but it had been quite some time since he'd had one, and one must keep up social airs... excluding valued friends and acquaintances from the invitation list was hardly acceptable either, although Arthur was beginning to think that in some cases exceptions should be made whatever the expense.

"I am not understanding what it is I said wrong..." Ivan began cheerfully, not bothering to stand although Gilbert was already upright and looking more than ready to brawl despite the vast difference in size. What the devil had Braginski said?

"You don't under-!" Gilbert's volume had increased, and it appeared for a moment as if he were choking on his rage. Ludwig scrambled to diffuse the situation, moving to stand next to his brother and place a hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him, but Gilbert simply shook it off, shooting a disgusted look around the room and then whirling to stomp out of the parlour. Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples, and began to excuse himself, but Ludwig stopped him.

"Please, don't trouble yourself. I'll see about what it is, I'm sure I can calm him..." Ludwig murmured, a flush of embarrassment colouring his cheeks not for the first time that evening. "I apologize for the disruption, everyone!" And the German gave a slight bow to the company at large before following his brother's exit with quick strides.

"Ugh, what was all that about?" Feliks spoke up from the chair he was curled upon, reminiscent of a feline in his position and expression. With his long blonde hair drawn back in a lace ribbon and his rouged cheeks, the Pole had always had an almost disturbingly effeminate air about him. Now, noticing that he'd garnered the attention of the room, he glanced away, as if indifferent. "I mean, that is, he so completely overreacted, right?" Feliks sounded much more subdued now, though no one had expressed disagreement, and he shifted uncomfortably under the combined stares.

"It was a bit odd..." Toris intervened to alleviate his companion's distress. "We ah... we shouldn't speak of it simply because they're gone now, though..." He added with a small, strained smile. "Come, Mr. Edelstein, could you not play us another song?" Roderich nodded slowly and made to exchange his chair for the bench at the pianoforte again, but he didn't quite make it.

"I'm interested, though." Matthew spoke up, and his voice was quite unusually cold. He didn't falter when he gained the floor, either, making short work of the distance between his seat and the sofa upon which his brother and Braginski were situated. "What was it you said that upset him so much?" The large Russian levelled gazes with the normally soft-spoken Canadian.

"I think that is being none of your business, da?" Ivan murmured, frost in his voice.

"Enough." Arthur stepped between them, placing a hand on Matthew's chest. For a moment the Canadian was startled, and then he nodded slightly to Arthur, averting his gaze apologetically and returning to his chair. "Toris is correct, we shouldn't be discussing such things. This is meant to be a cheerful gathering, I'm quite disappointed that things have been going somewhat less than pleasantly." The Englishman turned to face Roderich again. "Mr. Edelstein, if you would? I believe another song is indeed just what is needed." He smiled, more widely even as Roderich nodded politely and went to take his place at the piano. "Thank you. After this perhaps, if no one objects, we might abstain to the game room for a few rounds of bridge before the Vargases arrive. I recently was able to obtain some new tables of a very good quality, and the bar in there is well-stocked." The mood in the room lightened considerably at this, and Arthur was able to regain his seat beside Yao and Kiku with an inward sigh of relief.

The emotional notes of a Chopin piece swirled into the air, provoking excited whispering from Feliks to his unfortunate trio of listeners, but if Roderich noticed the disturbance in the far corner it did not show in his efficiency. The Austrian played as beautifully as ever, and it was only after a few moments of further distraction that Arthur recalled what he had been doing prior to the disturbance and turned again to the two Asians.

"I apologize, I did not realize the evening would turn so... eventful." Arthur began, but Kiku was already shaking his head gently.

"Not at all, Arthur-san. It is hardly your fault if some of your guests are beyond your control." The Japanese smiled with the utmost amiability, but Arthur couldn't help from bristling. Had there been a barb implied in that sentence...? He shook it off.

"Ah, well, at any rate I can still have your tea fetched-"

"That won't be necessary." Yao cut in smoothly. "We are quite fine with what has been provided." Arthur hesitated, but then nodded slowly. He wondered if perhaps they had been more offended by the small fiasco than they were letting on, but then, Yao had been rather short even on the previous occasions Arthur had met with him. It wasn't all that much of a mystery, if one considered the history between their two cultures, but Arthur had hoped that Yao would not blame one man for his entire country's immoral actions. Not wanting to leap to conclusions, Arthur did his best to maintain a polite air.

"You really must not think too much of it, Arthur-san. I gather it is common enough that Ivan provokes people." Kiku reassured Arthur once more, the Englishman hesitated but was forced to nod. It was true, anyone who knew Ivan could attest to that. The man just had a way of... drawing out the worst in people.

"You may have a point there..." Arthur sighed, "still, I wish it could have been otherwise, if only for one evening." Kiku tilted his head, acknowledging the statement, and Arthur let a comfortable silence fall to better hear the music.