Hey there readers! This is my first Hetalia fanfic, and I'm super excited to see where this goes!

I've been meaning to write one for quite some time now, but I haven't had any inspiration. But last night, I had a weird dream and crazy ideas ensued…and this is the product.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Rated 'T' to be safe...Don't know if that will change...

Enjoy!

-X-

The sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the hall and into the kitchen, where Elizaveta Hedervary flinched.

Then there was silence, and a certain young Italian struggled to figure out what to do.

"E-Elizaveta…?" The boy hiccupped in his high-pitched voice.

The maid sighed, for she was elbow-deep in soapy dishwater, and the day had gone by without incident, so, inevitably, some kind of disaster had to occur before the day was done.

"It's alright, Feliciano. I'll take care of it," she responded.

"G-Grazie. Scusarsi, Elizaveta." There was a pause, both of them wondering if the other would break the tension.

"Why don't you go sweep the walk?" The Hungarian girl suggested, caving. However, both she and the Italian knew that there was nothing to sweep, it had already been done; he simply wasn't capable of completing any other chore.

"Si…" He obliged, downhearted, knowing there was little he could do for her. Elizaveta heard the hall closet opening and clicking shut, signifying Feliciano had retrieved the broom.

Elizaveta had just dried off her soap-covered arms; only moments after Feliciano had gone outside, when she heard a crunch and a disgruntled "Arggh!" The outcry reverberated in the foyer as the dishes had done, until it, too, finally receded.

More silence. Elizaveta daren't move.

"Miss Hedervary." It wasn't a question. He knew the wreckage was Feliciano's doing, but he either didn't have the heart to blame the young one, or he didn't garner the satisfaction from yelling at him as he did with Elizaveta. She thought it was the latter, not giving her master the benefit of the doubt.

She exited the kitchen, pivoting to the left where the debris resided, noting the extra unwanted addition: her employer, Roderich Edelstein.

"Miss Hedervary." She kept her back ramrod straight, eyes half lidded, chin up, face expressionless: the very picture of the obedient servant. Excepting, of course, the poisonous thoughts raging through her mind—one of which wishing he wasn't wearing shoes when he stepped on the shattered china. She continued to grumble internally, inventing new mishaps to befall the completely aware Austrian when her schemes were interrupted.

"Did you plan on leaving this here?" He continued sarcastically. "By all means, if cleaning this mess is too much trouble, I can hire someone else to take care of it." He matched her hard expression, baiting her with freedom, autonomy, knowing that if she ever did leave, Sadiq would snatch her up, using her in a way Roderich never would.

And she hated him for it. She hated his pompousness, his easy, lavish lifestyle. Gentlemanly he did appear, but his facetious words tormented her in a way that made her prefer being hit. At least then she'd have an excuse to retaliate. Violence was easy. Too easy.

"No, Sir," Elizaveta responded dutifully, "I was just coming to clean the hall."

"But it didn't occur to you to hurry, knowing that I would have to come down eventually." He cocked one eyebrow, daring her to disagree.

At this she bowed, showing humility she didn't feel, knowing she was bloody in the water with a shark swimming ever nearer.

"Mr. Edelstein knows I serve him to my full ability," she said to the hardwood floor. "And that I would never act in any way to harm him."

Roderich sniffed at her, gloating in the show of her remorse, knowing she didn't mean it, but relishing in the fact that she had no choice.

"If this is your full ability, Miss Hedervary, I am severely disappointed." His eyes narrowed. "I expect more than this if you are to continue living here."

Elizaveta shut her eyes, hiding in her thick curtain of auburn hair, recognizing the defeat she would never let Roderich see.

-X-

Elizaveta didn't sleep well that night.

Feliciano was crying, both over the events of the evening and Holy Rome's departure. She didn't go to him, knowing it would hurt him more to know his pain was hers.

Even though it was well after midnight, the threat of dawn fast approaching, Roderich was at his piano, playing his emotions away. Despite the fact that pretending her master was as full of emotion as a tarnished teapot would have made it easier for her to hate him, Elizaveta found that she could not. She treated Roderich and his music as separate entities, however, for nothing as beautiful as his music could possibly come from someone so cold and callous.

She reveled in the music. She floated with it; let it carry her far away from the mansion to happier and sadder places—she was delighted to go anywhere she wasn't trapped. The notes danced and swayed, pulling her along with Roderich's emotions. She felt the tragedies, the fear, the anguish and despair. But alongside these, came light, only occasionally, but their softness spoke volumes.

Happiness came very rarely in Roderich's life; and for this, she pitied him. She could understand the emptiness that came with being alone, and the burden it brings, with each passing day, the horror in the realization that the shroud of loneliness will never end. And the oblivion that waits at the end of the line will be a welcoming embrace; at least then it is impossible to feel pain. For what good is it to live when there is no one to share it with?

The song ended, the last mournful peal ringing in the silence. A single tear slid down Elizaveta's cheek. It was not from self-pity; Elizaveta had grown out of that long ago. It was from knowing she and Roderich had experienced the same hardships, the same cruelties in their lives. And this similarity, somehow, had served to drive them apart.

Silence again—Feliciano had stopped crying, Elizaveta realized. She dearly hoped he was asleep, dreaming of places safer and far brighter than this magnificent prison in Austria.

-X-

End of Chapter 1~!

My original idea was actually quite silly; I'm not sure if it will fit with this angsty storyline. But if I can get it to fit, I'll put it in. If not, I'll make it a one-shot later.

Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated, and I hope to get Chapter 2 out as soon as possible!

~Kaiya

**Grazie: Thank you

**Scusarsi: Sorry