After a dinner that wasn't nearly as awkward as America had feared it would be – there being no polite way to ask an occupied territory if their occupier was treating them well, especially when said occupier was sitting at the same table – America was invited to Germany's study, a comfortable room with bookshelves lining the walls and gas lamps giving off a warm light.
He'd praised the meal – German food wasn't that different from a lot of American food, and tasted good – made light conversation with Belgium and Poland, the latter being about as sarcastic as possible while America pretended not to understand and played straight man. Now he guessed it was time for some business, since the study clearly held the work Germany did at his home.
America studied the titles on the shelves rather than chance messing up the nascent alliance by accidentally reading classified material. Allies or not, every nation had their secrets.
“Thank you for your courtesy, America,” Germany said, signaling that he had finished removing the classified materials from his desk. “Did you have any preferences for this... arrangement?”
By which the other nation meant their alliance, of course. The hint of hesitance, of nervousness in his voice practically screamed it.
America turned to face Germany and smiled. “We can take this at whatever speed suits you,” he said. Ultimately, this being that kind of treaty, they would have to seal it with sex – why that was necessary was something America didn't understand, but he had no complaints about it as long as the other party didn't either. “I don't think anything needs to be sealed until we've got everyone's agreement with the peace proposal.”
Wilson would likely pull out – pun very much intended – if the war couldn't be stopped by this exercise, which would make treaty-sealing sex very much premature.
No, he wasn't mistaken: Germany was nervous about this. “Your President has no wish to associate himself with an unsuccessful proposal, I gather.”
America nodded, and shrugged. “That's about the size of it.” He offered his best smile. “So why don't you tell me a bit about who I've got to convince? I mean, I know England, and he'll be difficult, and France, but I haven't had much to do with anyone else who's involved.”
“Ah.” That tiny smile and the warmth in Germany's eyes shouldn't light up his face so much. “Please, sit down. This will take some time.”
America settled himself in the offered wing-backed armchair – the style wasn't in fashion at home, but it was comfortable and that was all he cared about – and didn't be an ass and lean back with his feet on the desk. England would have been stunned that he could be that polite, but then, the last time he'd had any interaction with England the old man had been taking America's attempts to prove he could be trusted as an equal – well, sort of equal – completely the wrong way and wound up driving him to his revolution.
Germany hadn't done anything to deserve America's more bratty side.
Germany sat in the other armchair, as close to at attention as one could get while seated. “Austria hates Prussia, but he should agree: he is not doing well with this war and his relationship with Hungary is... strained. Having Poland there to distract her will help him secure his empire once more.”
That sounded worrisome to America, but he said nothing. Better to listen now.
“He – that is, Austria – is something of an aristocrat. He expresses himself best through music, and if one is to believe Prussia and Hungary he loves his piano more than any living thing.”
“He's married to Hungary, right?” America asked. That didn't sound like something a wife – even one in an arranged marriage – would say of her husband.
Germany gave a single nod. “As I said, the relationship is strained. Since Hungary and Poland have been friends for centuries, she will be eager to work with him. Prussia believes that Poland and Hungary will have enough power to counterbalance Austria.”
“You have doubts?” The Empire didn't sound all that confident.
The wince was so slight that America wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching for it. “Poland has been in my brother's care since the 1820s: neither Russia nor Austria would have him.”
That would be after the Partitions, if America remembered correctly.
“Russia sent him to Austria in the early 1800s. He does not speak of his time in Russia's household.”
Those simple words implied a great deal of unpleasantness.
“Austria treated him as a servant, as he does all his subordinate territories,” Germany continued. “I gather Poland was a very incompetent servant.” That with a hint of dryness suggesting any 'incompetence' was deliberate action to frustrate his conquerer. “When Austria sent him to my brother, Prussia treated him as an honored guest, a policy I have continued.” Something that might have been a smile touched his face. “Poland has stopped asking when we plan to stop playing with him: I believe he may have finally realized that we think of him as our guest and not our property.”
Given the utterly dysfunctional way the European nations interacted, America wasn't surprised it took Poland a long time to realize he wasn't being kept as some kind of game.
“That said, he and Prussia do not get on, and I believe Prussia's intent is to have him become someone else's problem,” Germany finished.
America considered this. “What does Poland think?”
“He is in favor. Partial independence with some of his lands is an improvement on being split between me, Russia and Austria, after all.”
Again, there was so much not said that America wasn't sure he'd caught it all. There were too many old blood-feuds here, too many vendettas going back through generations. He might not be an innocent – the things some of his Presidents had done to his tribes guaranteed that even without the whole slavery thing and the civil war – but damn, there had to be so much blood soaked into every inch of Europe it would stain everything.
Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 4 of ?
He'd praised the meal – German food wasn't that different from a lot of American food, and tasted good – made light conversation with Belgium and Poland, the latter being about as sarcastic as possible while America pretended not to understand and played straight man. Now he guessed it was time for some business, since the study clearly held the work Germany did at his home.
America studied the titles on the shelves rather than chance messing up the nascent alliance by accidentally reading classified material. Allies or not, every nation had their secrets.
“Thank you for your courtesy, America,” Germany said, signaling that he had finished removing the classified materials from his desk. “Did you have any preferences for this... arrangement?”
By which the other nation meant their alliance, of course. The hint of hesitance, of nervousness in his voice practically screamed it.
America turned to face Germany and smiled. “We can take this at whatever speed suits you,” he said. Ultimately, this being that kind of treaty, they would have to seal it with sex – why that was necessary was something America didn't understand, but he had no complaints about it as long as the other party didn't either. “I don't think anything needs to be sealed until we've got everyone's agreement with the peace proposal.”
Wilson would likely pull out – pun very much intended – if the war couldn't be stopped by this exercise, which would make treaty-sealing sex very much premature.
No, he wasn't mistaken: Germany was nervous about this. “Your President has no wish to associate himself with an unsuccessful proposal, I gather.”
America nodded, and shrugged. “That's about the size of it.” He offered his best smile. “So why don't you tell me a bit about who I've got to convince? I mean, I know England, and he'll be difficult, and France, but I haven't had much to do with anyone else who's involved.”
“Ah.” That tiny smile and the warmth in Germany's eyes shouldn't light up his face so much. “Please, sit down. This will take some time.”
America settled himself in the offered wing-backed armchair – the style wasn't in fashion at home, but it was comfortable and that was all he cared about – and didn't be an ass and lean back with his feet on the desk. England would have been stunned that he could be that polite, but then, the last time he'd had any interaction with England the old man had been taking America's attempts to prove he could be trusted as an equal – well, sort of equal – completely the wrong way and wound up driving him to his revolution.
Germany hadn't done anything to deserve America's more bratty side.
Germany sat in the other armchair, as close to at attention as one could get while seated. “Austria hates Prussia, but he should agree: he is not doing well with this war and his relationship with Hungary is... strained. Having Poland there to distract her will help him secure his empire once more.”
That sounded worrisome to America, but he said nothing. Better to listen now.
“He – that is, Austria – is something of an aristocrat. He expresses himself best through music, and if one is to believe Prussia and Hungary he loves his piano more than any living thing.”
“He's married to Hungary, right?” America asked. That didn't sound like something a wife – even one in an arranged marriage – would say of her husband.
Germany gave a single nod. “As I said, the relationship is strained. Since Hungary and Poland have been friends for centuries, she will be eager to work with him. Prussia believes that Poland and Hungary will have enough power to counterbalance Austria.”
“You have doubts?” The Empire didn't sound all that confident.
The wince was so slight that America wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching for it. “Poland has been in my brother's care since the 1820s: neither Russia nor Austria would have him.”
That would be after the Partitions, if America remembered correctly.
“Russia sent him to Austria in the early 1800s. He does not speak of his time in Russia's household.”
Those simple words implied a great deal of unpleasantness.
“Austria treated him as a servant, as he does all his subordinate territories,” Germany continued. “I gather Poland was a very incompetent servant.” That with a hint of dryness suggesting any 'incompetence' was deliberate action to frustrate his conquerer. “When Austria sent him to my brother, Prussia treated him as an honored guest, a policy I have continued.” Something that might have been a smile touched his face. “Poland has stopped asking when we plan to stop playing with him: I believe he may have finally realized that we think of him as our guest and not our property.”
Given the utterly dysfunctional way the European nations interacted, America wasn't surprised it took Poland a long time to realize he wasn't being kept as some kind of game.
“That said, he and Prussia do not get on, and I believe Prussia's intent is to have him become someone else's problem,” Germany finished.
America considered this. “What does Poland think?”
“He is in favor. Partial independence with some of his lands is an improvement on being split between me, Russia and Austria, after all.”
Again, there was so much not said that America wasn't sure he'd caught it all. There were too many old blood-feuds here, too many vendettas going back through generations. He might not be an innocent – the things some of his Presidents had done to his tribes guaranteed that even without the whole slavery thing and the civil war – but damn, there had to be so much blood soaked into every inch of Europe it would stain everything.