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Cross-posted from hetachallenge

Title: Festival of Lights
Characters: Prussia, Austria
Challenge: Holiday Winter Challenge - 31 Fics in 31 Days (Lights)
Rating: G
Summary: Prussia comes over to Austria’s house to help him celebrate Hanukah…

“Let’s light the candles, before we eat the latkes, Prussia,” Austria said as he walked over to the table where his menorah sat.

“Okay, as long as it’s allowed,” Prussia replied as he followed him.

“It’s fine, Prussia.” Austria looked over at his friend. “Besides, I came to your Christmas party last year.”

“That’s true… and speaking of that, you’ll come this year, right?”

“I’d love to.” Austria picked up a few candles, placing them in the menorah. He also picked up a kippah and put it on his head, handing one to his friend. “Put that on your head,” he said, a faint, smirk-like smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards.

Prussia laughed, but did as he was told. “And to think there was a time when this would have gotten both of us shot or worse…”

“I know, but it’s not your fault your boss was insane.”

“Yeah… a pity they couldn’t all be as awesome as Old Fritz…. Now that was a boss!”

Austria nodded. “Although, your current one isn’t that bad.”

“She’s pretty awesome too.” Prussia grinned. “Anyway, enough politics, we can always discuss that over beers at Otto’s.”

“Fair enough. Now where were we?”

“I think you were going to light the candles, old man.”

Austria shook his head at his friend. He lit the shamash candle and as he used its flame to light the others, he said softly, “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha-Olam, asher kiddeshanu b’mitzvotav, vitzivanu, lehadlik ner shel Hanukkah.” He then added a second blessing, “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech Ha-Olam, she-asah nissim la-avotaynu bayamim ha-hem bazman hazeh.”

Prussia responded with an equally soft “Amen.” He handed back his kippah when he saw Austria remove his. “So uh, we get to eat latkes now? And spin those whatever-they’re-called?”

Austria snorted softly in amusement. “Yes, and they’re called ‘dreidels,’” he held up a hand, forestalling his friend’s comment, “Don’t listen to France, you don’t spin them and take off your clothes if you lose.”

“Thought so.” Prussia grinned ruefully. “So is the rumor about playing with Belgium’s chocolates true?”

“Yes… If you’re going to wager chocolate, then wager the best, right?”

Prussia laughed as they made their way into the kitchen. “Still mad at Zwingli, hunh?”

Austria made a little sound of contempt. “No.”

“Yes you are!” Prussia shook his finger at him. “Otherwise, you’d have said something about me calling him ‘Zwingli’ instead of ‘Switzerland.’”

He shrugged and took the plate of latkes out of the oven, where he had put them earlier to keep warm. “There’s applesauce and sour cream in the fridge.”

“Okay,” Prussia said as he took those items out of the fridge. He walked over to the kitchen table and blinked. “Those are latkes?”

“Yeah.” Austria frowned.

“They look like the Kartoffelpuffers West likes to make when we have wurst for dinner.” He helped himself to some, topping it with sour cream, getting a funny look from his friend. “What? So I like sour cream, you would too, after spending time in Russia’s house.”

“I guess so,” Austria replied as he also helped himself to some latkes and applesauce.

Prussia lifted his glass and said, “Here’s to good friends, good times, and good food.” He drank.

Austria did the same. “And to you behaving like a mensch for a change.”

They laughed, enjoying each other’s company and the meal. All too soon, the evening came to end. They had had a lot of fun, playing dreidel like a couple of kids, and stuffing themselves with the jelly donuts Prussia had brought at his friend’s request.

Putting on his coat, “Prussia said, “Thanks, Roddy.”

Austria raised his eyebrow.

“Would you rather I call you a prissy old fool?” Prussia said cheekily.


“Anyway, thanks for an awesome evening. I had a lot of fun tonight and I didn’t even need to get drunk,” he smirked. “No one’s going to believe it.”

“Except her…”

“Yeah… She would have been here if she could.”

“I know.”

“Night, Roddy.”

“Night, Gilbert,” Austria said. He stood at the door, watching Prussia head for home…


the Duchess of Crack! and the Queen of Fluff

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