Work Text:
1823
It's been years since Antonio Hernández Carriedo saw his former spouse, Roderich Edelstein. Only the Spaniard remembered that this prideful man once carried the title of ‘The Consort of the Spanish Crown'. After all, Roderich was sick, too fragile to defend himself. It was all for the better, if Antonio was the one who protected him. But The Consort was too ambitious to satisfy himself with the mere role of belonging to someone else. At some point Edelstein became a problem on the court that could no longer be ignored, so he got sent back to Vienna with no intention of going back to Spain. There was gossip that Roderich did it entirely on purpose, just to free himself from this ‘arrangement’. Antonio chose not to believe in them, as his heart couldn’t bear the thought of the one he adored so much didn't want to see him.
That was the past that Roderich erased from history. He did everything he could to make others forget about his relationship with Spain, and he almost succeeded. Edelstein didn't expect that Antonio could be so nostalgic, and that he still thought about his ‘marriage’.
The Austrian was pretty shocked, when he received his first letters from Madrid, from his ‘husband’, when he arrived in Vienna all these hundred years ago. They came constantly for several centuries, Roderich didn’t write back even once. He only read a couple of them, the rest of them burned in the flames unopened. After all, what was the point of reviving the past?
But he finally came back to the country he despised. Why? Roderich couldn’t answer clearly. Perhaps he wanted to see how much Antonio suffered under France, maybe he wanted to see misery in Antonio’s eyes. The reason had to be definitely something more than simple ‘I missed you’, because Edelstein wasn’t able to feel such feelings towards the Spaniard in the first place. Nonetheless Roderich had to say something, something silly enough so Antonio would trust his words without any doubt.
The Austrian smiled a little bit, when the man looked at him with concern in his eyes. Antonio couldn’t believe that Edelstein was really next to him, after all these years of complete loneliness Roderich actually remembered his existence. Roderich Edelstein really was in the same room as him, it wasn’t a ghost of some trick of his imagination. The pianist was there.
“What’s wrong, Antonio?” Edelstein broke the silence between them, since Antonio was too focused on glaring at him to start any conversation. “Did something catch your eye? Please, tell me.”
“Ring. You’re still wearing the ring I gave you on the day we…,” Antonio said, as he started to laugh quietly. Roderich neglected him for so long, and yet he still kept the jewelry he gave him. It didn’t make any sense for Antonio, but he got used to the fact that Edelstein was a really complicated man.
“Of course, it was a gift after all,” Roderich wore it just a few seconds before meeting the Spaniard. He knew it would affect him in one way or another. Normally that ring was lying forgotten at the bottom of his desk, covered with a pile of papers and many other things. Edelstein simply never cared enough about it to look for it and throw it away. “It’s very dear to me.”
“Right, yes.” It was sweet to hear it, even if this could mean absolutely nothing. Antonio wanted to live in this lie for a few more minutes, since false reality with Edelstein sounded better to him than being left alone again. “I’m glad you like it.”
Roderich forced himself not to say that he truly loathed this man and everything he ever gave him. “Well, how are you feeling? I didn’t have time to see you, when... Well, Francis was here.” Edelstein didn’t pay much attention to the situation in Spain, when Napoleon was still in Europe anyway. He only got interested when Feliks got involved in fights. And even then, Antonio not once crossed his mind. “Did you get injured or anything?”
“Please, don’t explain yourself. I’m sure you had your own reasons.” The Spaniard was genuine, the past didn’t matter that much when the pianist was close to him once again. Antonio was really ready to forgive him everything, if that meant Roderich would stay there for a little longer. “I healed. I feel better now, especially when you are here.”
“Well, I’m glad then.” Edelstein didn't know how to respond to this unexpected and equally unnecessary compliment. It was childish of Antonio to say such things to him, after he abandoned him like some dog all these centuries ago. “It would be such a shame, if Francis managed to damage your pretty face.”
The Austrian chuckled, when he saw that the other man started to feel embarrassed. It was all too easy for Roderich, Antonio always reacted the way Roderich exactly wanted him to. That was also sad that the Spaniard couldn’t really challenge him in any way that could make Roderich interested in him for even a short time. Antonio was too uninteresting (Roderich could swear that Antonio never said even one smart sentence in his entire life), and too naive for the pianist’s taste. How could anyone be surprised that he ran away back to his country then? Was it so wrong that he wanted something more?
The Spaniard didn’t say anything back, he nervously started playing with his fingers. It was easy with other people, but Roderich was someone who couldn’t be treated like a regular man. Antonio never really knew what Roderich expected from him, but he always had this strange feeling that he couldn’t meet Edelstein’s expectations no matter what. Perhaps the feeling was right. Perhaps not. Antonio didn’t like questioning his relationship with Roderich anyway.
“Oh, Antonio, I almost forgot to tell you… I’m staying here only for a few days, then I’m going back to Austria. I have duties to do.”
Edelstein took a few steps towards him, as Antonio was again too scared to reduce the distance between them. He was entirely at Roderich’s mercy. Just like Roderich was dependent on him in the past, how the tables have turned— it was ridiculous! The Spanish Empire freezing because of some weak pianist that could barely swing a sword.
Some underestimate the fact that the wisest chosen words cut deeper than the sharpest blade. And Roderich Edelstein knew Antonio’s soul better than his own. Maybe that was his tragedy— knew everything about the person you truly loathe, when you can barely understand your own self. Pathetic, truly pathetic.
“This time say a proper goodbye, when you will be leaving.” Antonio said, while looking at Roderich’s eyes. He began to start adoring the colour purple too, simply because it reminded him of Roderich so much. It was childish, but he couldn’t help it.
“I will, don’t worry.” Edelstein, without taking off the glove, placed his hand on the man’s face. His fingers were gently rubbing his cheek. He hated touching him, but the glove made it more bearable, than it would be if his fingers were completely exposed. For a few seconds he could stand being so close to him. “After all, we don’t want to repeat the past, right?”
Edelstein took away his hand. A few seconds were enough to put on an act. It was enough to convince Antonio that it looked like Roderich still cared about him in some way.
“Yes, we don’t.” A warm smile appeared on the Spaniard’s face. He was happy, truly happy.
Antonio was so close to kissing Roderich at the exact moment, but he knew better not to do it. Nonetheless, he imagined the feeling of Edelstein’s lips on his own. That was enough.
Roderich got into the carriage, he spent three days far away from his home. It was definitely more than enough. He hadn’t had any reason to stay there any longer, he also didn’t wish to be there any longer. This whole country was cursed for him for eternity. But there was also another reason than simple dislike for this place— someone close to him was in another part of Europe, and they were currently Roderich’s priority.
Edelstein fixed his glasses, as he looked at the city one last time.
Then he remembered about the ‘promise’ he made to Antonio.
Roderich left him without any word once again, he didn’t even bother himself to leave a short and simple note. Edelstein sighed, perhaps they really weren’t made for each other then. Not really a loss, if someone would ask him. After all, the pianist didn’t love him, not even once in his entire life Roderich thought about Antonio as someone worthy of his love and attention. Edelstein didn’t even know where this radical opinion came from. He definitely has been feeling this way since the day they met, but why? Well, it didn’t really matter to him. It was too late to analyze such foolish things anyway. Antonio tried to make him vulnerable, tried to search for his weak spots, and the pianist completely hated his attempts to make them closer to each other than it was needed.
When Roderich was far enough away, he finally did what he should all these centuries ago and threw away that silly ring through the window, thinking about the man who was waiting for him.
A really symbolic way to end something, perfect for an artist like Edelstein. And for a really tragic lover such as Antonio Hernández Carriedo that couldn’t let Roderich go, even if he never belonged to him in the first place.