(Hello, hello, Hetalia fans! Welcome to my first-ever fanfiction! I'm always open to critiques about writing, and if I screwed up on some history, please let me know. The last thing I want to do is fudge up my facts. I'll have a few notes at the end of the fic, so you readers will (hopefully) learn a little something about Hungary.)

The Daughter of Turul*

By Shezners

An anxious woman paced the polished halls of a grand government building, shooting nervous glances at a pair of ornate double doors. She absentmindedly brushed her light brown hair and fidgeted with her sage green dress as she waited for the important meeting to end. She had been invited inside to watch the proceedings, but she declined. She feared she would rise up and strike someone out of anger, as she was prone to do, and apparently, the men shared her feelings, so she was left outside in the hall to pace and worry as she pleased. Several times, she had tried to sneak up to the door and listen, but the voices were only a vague rumble through the wood, like stormy waves. Finally, she plopped herself gracelessly in a chair and twirled her hair around her slender fingers, pondering how she had gotten herself into this mess.

It had started, she decided, with the disastrous end of the Great War. After she had lost the war and her husband, Austria, she had struggled to make ends meet. And then America (God, that stupid America) had gotten everyone into the giant mess that was the Great Depression. Shrunken and battered, Hungary did whatever she could to make ends meet. And that's when Germany stepped in.

Hungary hadn't seen Germany since the end of the Great War, when he was a shamed and disheveled shell of his former self. When he reappeared before her, it was like he had been born again. His blond hair was slicked back neatly and his blue eyes shone once again with ambition, the ambition of spreading his new philosophy that had gotten him back on his feet, a word that seemed to ring with hope whenever he spoke it – the word Nazism. His booming voice spoke of opportunity and a new rise to power. Hungary was glad to regain her old friend and eagerly engaged in trade with him, to talk with him, to share ideas and to regain her lost hope. But something was different. There was a steely edge to his words and actions now, and a sharp bitterness soured the air around him. Even when he had helped her to regain lost lands* ("It's the least I could do for an old ally!" he had laughed), she still had the sinking feeling that something was off. When she asked him what had changed since the end of the Great War, he smiled a smile that could have stopped her heart and said, "I got a new boss."

Suddenly, the old wooden door creaked open, shaking Hungary from her reverie. She stood as Prime Minister Pál Teleki entered the hall, a look of exhausted resignation on his face. She rushed toward the old man, eager for news, but then stopped, reading the answer on his face. When he turned to look towards, he tried to shift his expression to one of calm and serenity, but to no avail. Hungary already knew his true feelings.

Hungary thought she saw Teleki tremble as he began to speak. "Bocsánat*, Hungary" Teleki murmured, "There was nothing I could do. There's no way we could face Germany's might. There's no…"

He stopped, overcome by the weight of his decision. Hungary stepped forward to embrace the elderly leader, but he stopped her and straightened his back, refusing to let his beloved country see him so distraught. She wanted to be of comfort to her prime minister, but disappointment and curiosity burned in her chest until she was finally provoked to ask,

"So the Regent, he…changed his mind?"

Teleki let loose a dry, humorless laugh and answered, "You know what's funny? Horthy* told me thirty-four times that he would never make war for foreign interests, and now he has changed his mind.* We are truly Axis now, and there is no turning back."

As she listened to her master, her heart sank beneath her feet. All at once, the memories of the Great War rushed back to her, the loss of her pride, her land, her Austria. Once again, she was side by side with Germany, whether she wanted to be or not. And this was another war she could not afford to lose.


Turul – A mythological bird that plays an important role in the myths of the Magyars (Hungarians). It resembles a large bird of prey, like a falcon

The Vienna Awards – Germany and Italy both helped to enforce claims made by Hungary to regain land lost in the Treaty of Trianon

Bocsánat – "I'm sorry"

Miklós Horthy – Regent of Hungary during most of World War II

*This is a supposedly a real quote from Teleki himself, but feel free to dispute me on that.

(So, did you like it? Hate it? Wanna throw me off a cliff? Send me a review! I'm happy to read what you have to say. I may continue this story, so be on the lookout for a chapter 2!)