Hetalia!

Roderich huffed softly and adjusted his cravat for the fourth time in the past twenty minutes. He didn't remember his uniform being this... damn... tight. With a soft hiss, he squirmed slightly before giving up with a scowl, abandoning himself to discomfort for the remainder of this silly, ill-timed night. His boss had insisted that it be hosted in Austria, and worse, that he host. He had been hard at work with a composition for the viola when he received the call a week ago, and his foul mood had not improved since then.

Still, for better or worse, he was determined to play the perfect host for his guests, especially since a few of them probably wanted to be there even less than he did. He fiddled hopelessly with the cravat again, before throwing his hands up and stepping quickly away from the drawing room mirror. It was time to go and too late to change the lacy thing. He walked out of his small city house and joined the thin bustle heading towards the taxi stand.

Gilbert tried to fight back the smirk that was making its way onto his face. Ever since he heard that this event would be hosted in Austria, by none other than Roderich Edelstein, his mood had become lighter and an almost predacious grin was constantly tugging at his lips. His signature laugh slipped out as he thought about how exactly he was going to humiliate that man tonight. "Kesesesese~! Just wait and see what I have in store, you stupid aristocrat." His plotting distracted him from the itchiness and general uncomfortableness of his uniform.

When Austria stepped out of the taxi (with much huffing and puffing about the price of a cab these days, honestly, Franz Josef would have had a fit about the cost of riding in a carriage at that price, it was simply unacceptable!) the first thing that greeted him was the noise. Then, the crowd. There were hundreds more people than the usual large tourist crowds. These people were dressed in outlandish costumes, carrying notebooks in lieu of cameras - though there were a fair amount of those as well.

Roderich noticed a few countries mingling with the rest, chatting with each other or politely with the humans. He searched these out carefully, looking for two certain people - expecting one and dreading the other. So far he didn't see either and he supposed that was a good thing - he didn't want the two alone together in any case. There were far too many breakable items in the palace.

The smirk never left Gilbert's face, even as he finally reached the crowd at the event. He swerved through the masses of people, scanning their faces for any sign of the familiar hair curl, glasses, and beauty mark. He wanted to find the Austrian before the man could find him, but he wouldn't mind if that part of his plan didn't work out. As long as his presence still caused that stupid arisocrat's face to shift even slightly into a frown, he was satisfied. Though, he wouldn't mind causing other faces, but now wasn't the time for thoughts like these. "Kesesesese, the awesome me will find you sooner or later~!" he said under his breath as he continued to search. It would be easier if there weren't so many people.

After another cursory glance around, he started heading toward the large entrance of the palace, the large ostrich plume on his tricorner hat leading the way. He was intent on giving the opened areas a quick look-through before the actual event started. It was important to him to make sure that everything looked presentable (and that nothing had been stolen) before the major reporters started photographing and filming. The lawns and the facade of the building had been touched up in the previous weeks and he was more than pleased with the results - he could almost imaging his dear Maria strolling through the gardens with her children, or Franz Joseph riding his horse down the grand palisade...

So lost was he in his daydreams that he hardly noticed entering the palace, meandering around the hall and eventually away from the larger crowds and into one of the more restricted areas of the large elaborate palace. He blinked and found himself standing near an old man with a stenographer's pad, who himself was absorbed with the sketch he was making of the bed that Austria's famous Marie Antoinette had been born in.

Roderich sighed softly and crossed his arms demurely over his chest, tilting his head slightly to the side. He examined the bedroom and as he did, he was struck by impulse to see what had become of the room he used to call his own, before he moved out of the palace for a more modest home of his own. He stayed where he was, trying to remember which hallway he was supposed to turn down... He remembered getting lost in this place more than once.

Gilbert frowned and put his hands on his hips. It was harder to find him than he had originally thought. 'Maybe he's in another room. He's probably admiring some old painting or a piano. Kesesesese!' He snuck off down one of the hallways and somehow found himself in the restricted section. It was quite easy for someone as awesome as him to do. He did narrowly escape some security though, but that was beside the point! He carefully peeked into each room as he made his way down the hall. The rooms were decorated quite beautifully, though Gilbert would never admit it.

---

Meanwhile, Arthur Kirkland had just arrived at the palace. He admired the lovely gardens on his way inside and noted to tell Austria just how wonderful the place looked. He looked around the crowd of people and hoped to find someone he could have an intelligent conversation with.

((Is it alright that I added England?))

Finally, when Roderich was absolutely sure that he most likely knew which general direction his old apartments were probably in, he set off. He met with a pair of flustered looking guards blocking off on of the accesses to the restricted areas and flashed his special access pass, and with no trouble he was on his way down the halls, growing more and less sure of his decision every door he passed. He smiled a little, trailing his fingertips along the gold guilt wall trim. It might be nice to just wander around, if he did end up getting lost. The main events were starting in a half-hour, so he had a little time to wander until someone found him.

----

Alfred had been at the conference since it started, wandering around and chatting with the locals in broken English. He was currently in a rousing conversation with a reporter from Greece, who usually reported on archaeological finds. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his short and infinitely fun British sidekick. He immediately cut short his conversation, shaking the man's hand vigorously with a bright youthful grin, and then ran off to catch up with England. With a few too many people in the way, he resorted to hopping and waving excited, shouting out.

"Iggy! Hey, turn around!"

Arthur froze. Was that Alfred? He hoped really hard that it wasn't. He had wanted an intelligent conversation, and talking to Alfred was the exact opposite of that. He turned slightly, trying to be subtle, and cringed a bit when he realized that it was indeed Alfred. 'Could you at least act proper here? We're guests,' he thought, wanting to yell that across the room. He knew better though. He let out a sigh and turned around, deciding that he might as well humor the boy. "Hello Alfred," he said calmly.

---

Gilbert continued to search and, soon enough, he finally found the man he was looking for. He grinned mischievously and tried to remain hidden. It would be much more fun to surprise the Austrian when he least expected it. He followed him down the hall, hiding in the shadows and biting his lip to keep any "kesese"s in. One accidentally slipped out, and he was afraid he didn't cover his mouth in time. Did Roderich hear him? He hoped not as he continued to stalk him.

Alfred shoulder-checked the few people still in the way after his jumping and shouting technique, and quickly made his way to Arthur's side. Immediately he pulled the smaller man into his arms, nuzzling into his messy golden hair. "Hey what's up, dude! It's been like forever, you really gotta answer your phone more! And you smell like soooo good, just so you know." He let his companion go, but held him at arm's length and grinned, blue eyes sparkling merrily.

----

Roderich remained lost in his thoughts, and his house, and eventually wandered into a large, spacious ballroom, with a grand piano on the far end. The entire back wall was large ornate windows looking out over the back gardens, the floors were golden marble shot through with streaks of pale rose, the chandeliers even darkened reflected sunlight in their glittering crystals and threw rainbows on the walls. Roderich walked in slowly, sighing, his boots clicking on the floors. He remained still for a moment. Eventually, he closed his eyes and smiled softly, bowing low to an imaginary partner, and lifted his arms into the position of a slow, romantic waltz when he straightened up.

Arthur spluttered and looked up at Alfred, face turning pink. He busied himself with smoothing down his hair to try and hopefully calm the blood rushing to his cheeks. "Alfred, could you try to act more proper? We are guests here. You rudely pushed your way through the people over there and now you're making a scene over here." He put his arms down to his sides. "I apologize for not answering all of your phone calls. I've been quite busy lately." He turned his head to survey the crowd. It appeared that Alfred did indeed cause a bit of a scene. There were a groups of people here and there looking at them and speaking in hushed voices. 'Bloody hell.. he's going to be the death of me.'

He coughed awkwardly and glanced at the man through his peripheral vision. "And, uh, you don't smell so bad yourself," he said in a barely audible voice.

---

Gilbert followed Roderich into the ballroom. He was greeted by quite a lovely sight. Roderich looked as though he was about to start dancing with an imaginary partner. Gilbert could not hold in his amusement any longer. This was just too adorable. He suddenly began howling with laughter and ended up startling himself in the process.

Alfred looked oblivious to the crowd's discontent, he had eyes only for Arthur. Big, wet, puppy dog eyes. "Sorry Artie... jus' wanted to see ya. Got too excited, I guess." He scratched the back of his head, looking around innocently for the first time and noticing the mutterers, at whom he smiled sheepishly until they 'harrumphed' and turned back to their business. His attention wandered back to Arthur when the shorter man explained his absence. "Ah, that's okay. I've been, as well. With the elections and all... so..." He smiled and shifted, putting his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket, glancing away a little awkwardly. It was weird talking to England about his President.

His smile lit up when he caught England's muffled reply. "Heh~ I know, as always. Axe never fails me! Got ladies crawling all over me. Hey, speaking of ladies, I heard your princess is pregnant?" Inexplicably he stooped a little and slid his arm around Arthur's waist, patting his belly lightly.

---

The sudden, sharp staccato turned his first graceful step of the dance into a stumbling whirl, as he whipped around to face the hooligan who had apparently followed him - ah. Gilbert. Of course. He crossed his arms and scowled severely, waiting for the other's immature giggling to stop so he could yell at him properly. "Prussia." It almost sounded like a hiss. "How nice to see you here."