Work Text:
Paris Peace Conference, 1919
Austria-Hungary did not know where German Empire was being held. They stumbled as many, many hands pushed them forward, toward the meeting room, a chamber large enough to fit all attendants. Their wrists were held together by cuffs, their formerly impeccable uniform now dark with mud and blood. They weren't allowed a change of clothes, and it would have been useless to ask again. He did his best instead to remain calm, hiding his nerves behind a mask. A mask that cracked once they actually entered the room. And noticed the presence of German Empire's son, Weimar.
Oh no.
Austria-Hungary shakily reached the desk she was supposed to stand behind and did their best to hide his shaking hands. It was getting harder to think, even more so once German Empire was shoved right next to them. Weimar made a sound close to a sob and strained against France's hold, attempting to reach his father, tears running down his cheeks. Austria-Hungary ached to pull him close and soothe the child, so hungry, hungry for love, for affection, for attention. Always hungry... And yet, Austria-Hungary remained rooted in their spot, knowing very well that every weapon in the room would be pointed at them the moment she made a step, and would only serve to distress Weimar more. German Empire seemed to come to the same conclusion, judging by his lack of movement. Instead, he stood in stony silence, awaiting his sentence, knowing very well that it meant death. For German Empire had a convenient replacement waiting to be used. Weimar.
Britain spoke up, then, his French stilted and the slightest bit awkward, but that did not take away from his imposing presence. Austria-Hungary tensed further. It was coming now. The start of Britain's speech eluded him. Only once he spoke directly to Austria-Hungary did they snap back to attention. "-and for that reason, you shall not continue your existence. You shall relinquish your colonies and let go of your vassals. You shall stop existing and become two once more, and give rise to a new era. An era of peace." ...right. Peace. You did this all for peace, didn't you, old man? Austria thought, venomous. More venomous than he had ever thought himself capable of. And yet, those were his final thoughts before they were dunked into a burning ocean full of agony.
...
Austria-Hungary thought he knew pain. He thought that he was ready for anything the victorious Entente might throw at them. He was sorely mistaken, for neither he nor Hungary expected this. To be forcefully torn apart, and at once, Austria found himself in a strange haze, questioning at the same moment how this could have happened, and who in the world was screaming. Then he discovered that it was him screaming. Both of him. Austria's and Hungary's voices melted together and separated again in a tragic cacophony full of agony. The sense of one and then the sense of two felt disorienting, not helped by the agony Austria felt. As if he were too small for his own skin, as if it had been raked over hot coals beforehand, and his lungs had inhaled gunpowder and lead. As if his arms and legs weighed tonnes and nothing at all at the same instant with which he could register everything in such clarity... His legs didn't feel like they belonged to him. His mind felt far too empty without Hungary. He could see German Empire just a few metres away, watching stone-faced, but Austria could register the mute horror in his eyes as he stared at their form, swiftly yet also painfully slowly melting back into two. The talons of his right hand were clenched hard into the flesh of his left wrist, and his left hand was squeezing the corner of the table with much more force than necessary. It felt as if the predator that was the German empire was using the last of his willpower to remain in place and to hide his terror. Austria snapped back to the present. Hungary was holding him up. His legs seemed to have buckled underneath him during some part of the experience. His entire being itched. As if his skin were a size too small. Austria had a strong urge to rip all his skin off, to just get it off, off- And yet, that was impossible. He forcibly stamped down his rising horror as Hungary helped him sit, and herself took another seat as well, all dainty and feminine and not at all what the Entente had been expecting, judging by the outright baffled expressions showing through the eyes of some of them. Austria could not truly fault them, could not focus even as their judgement was brought forth, and their fates sealed.
He had always been more of a poet... He felt like screaming himself hoarse in written form.
Of bleeding on the pages, staining them crimson with his blood and then staining them anew with ink. Carelessly covering the entire page, ripping it, burning it- He wanted to make a painting of this scene made of words as they all focused on the main course. German Empire. Because it sated their thirst for blood, when it came to Austria-Hungary, to just clip their wings, tear them apart and scold them like insolent children. So much more blood would be needed to satisfy them when it came to German Empire. German Empire, who was anxiously eyeing the little boy in France's grasp, beyond terrified and confused by all that was happening. And yet, even the child could tell that something terrible was about to happen. Because Britain's eyes were shining a deep purple, a sign of his magic rising to once more show itself to the world, malevolent and terrible.
German Empire knew just as well as Austria that death was preferable to whatever he would be forced to do now. To become now. But death was not an option. Not for then, even if German Empire had a convenient replacement in the form of his son, Weimar.
...
The power concentrating in the room became electric. Austria could feel the hair rise on the back of his neck, a sudden shiver overtaking him as magic came from Britain's palms only to curl around German Empire like a cloud of malicious mist. "German Empire. For all the death and destruction you have done, you shall be punished. I hereby take your voice, your humanity, your memory and your very sanity. I curse you to wander the void until all your sins are repaid. Only then shall you return." Britain said in an incantation.
It took a single blink to see the dawning realisation and deep terror finally show itself on Empire's face. He took an aborted step back, only to have all the guns in the room pointed at him. Another second later- that's when the screaming started. And Austria could not look away. And Austria could not forget. They all stared in horror, including Britain, as German Empire howled, doubling over in agony, all pride suddenly gone as his taloned hands tore at his own face, which was starting to become... Melted.
Oh no.
And then, suddenly, all Austria could hear was muted whining. German Empire, his eyes still human and horrified, turned to look at him, and Austria felt faint.
His mouth was gone.
He could only watch as Empire's bones shifted, muscles tearing and stretching alongside them as he grew in height, only another wordless howl the evidence of his agony. Austria got to watch Empire's eyes rot in their sockets, becoming milky white. He got to watch, as humanity left his friend his lover. He could only watch as German Empire died before his eyes without ever truly dying. Then, a tear through the fabric of space, and the void swallowed the German Empire whole. Mutely, Austria realised that Britain was speaking again. Mutely, he realised that tears were sliding down his cheeks.
A spell winding around all their throats, a spell meant to silence this event. Some looked glad, others disappointed. Some, like Austria, just could not handle this. The burn of Britain's magic was not helping, either, because German Empire had just been given a fate worse than death...