A/N: All good things must come to an end. I had a wonderful time writing this story and I just have to give a big, big, BIG thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this whole thing. You guys are great! Please enjoy the official last chapter!

Disclaimer: If you don't know by now, I don't own Hetalia.

A Song for the Silent

Epilogue

The woman in charge of the store was surprised when the young couple came inside, instead of walking past like most people did. She was even more surprised when she saw what the man was wheeling in front of him.

"Excuse me," he said when they reached her, "you take donations here, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yes. We take gently used clothing, furniture, and other assortment of goods. All donations go to those victimized by the war."

"Do you take wheelchairs?"

"It depends on their condition, but yes we do. How long have you had this one?"

"About six years, but I only used it for two. It's just been sitting around the house. I was going to throw it out until my wife suggested that we bring it here."

The woman next to him, whom the store owner assumed was his wife, smiled. "I've seen your sign so many times when I come into town and I've been meaning to come in here, but haven't had the chance until now."

"So what do you think?" The man asked. "Will you be able to take it?"

The store owner gave the wheelchair a quick check over. It was in excellent shape. It had been nearly cleaned and polished, and even though the model was outdated, it was practically brand new.

"Yes, I do believe I will," she smiled. "This is wonderful. I just had another woman come in this morning asking if we had any available wheelchairs. Her husband was crippled from the war and has been unable to get around since. Thank you so much."

"It's the least we can do," the woman said. "May I ask you something?" The store owner nodded. "Is it just you that works here?"

"Yes. Monday through Saturday and Sunday mornings."

"Well I was just wondering if you were looking for any extra help."

Once more, the store owner was surprised. She was a very hardworking woman and was reluctant to ask for any sort of assistance, but it was true that it was difficult to run such a store by herself.

The woman continued, "I've been looking for a way to get involved in the post-war movement and I really like what you are doing here. I personally know how devastating the war was to some families." She reached over to lace her fingers with her husband's and even though the store owner was tempted to ask, she kept her questions to herself.

"Even if it's just a few hours a day, I would be glad to help."

"Can I have your name, ma'am?"

"Elizabeta Edelstein."

"Mrs. Edelstein, I very much appreciate your offer. If you can come in tomorrow morning—around nine or so—we can talk more then."

Elizabeta smiled. "Thank you so much."

"No, thank you."

"That was unexpected," Roderich said after they left the store. "I didn't know you wanted a job."

Elizabeta shrugged, "I didn't know either. It was a spur of the moment decision. But I'm really excited about it now. Let's stop over at the post office before we go home. I'm expecting a letter from Gilbert." When they arrived, Elizabeta was surprised to find that not only did she have a letter from Gilbert, but a package as well. There was also a letter from Antonio and another plain letter with no return address.

"I wonder who this could be from," Elizabeta said as she glanced at the last letter when they arrived home. Roderich held open the gate to the house for her and they both made their way inside.

Elizabeta put the package and Gilbert and Antonio's letters on the kitchen table before opening the mysterious letter.

"It's a postcard," she said.

"Who puts a postcard in an envelope?" Roderich asked as he sat down across from her.

There was no message on the front, but when Elizabeta flipped the card over, she smiled at the picture on the front.

"It's from Natalya." She passed the postcard to Roderich. In the picture was Natalya and two other people that Elizabeta assumed were her brother and sister because of the resemblances. It had been taken at some amusement part—Elizabeta could see the rides in the background—and across the bottom of the picture ran the words "Greetings from America" in big bold font.

Elizabeta had only been slightly worried when she had gone to see Natalya to give her a wedding invitation and had found the dance studio deserted. But she had been confident that Natalya—smart and resourceful as she was—would find her way to wherever she wanted to go.

"Don't you think she looks happy?"

Roderich looked closer at the picture, "Not really. She's scowling…as usual."

"You're not looking close enough. See the curve in her lips? That's a smile."

Roderich still wasn't seeing it, but he had to admit that Natalya had a more relaxed disposition than he had ever seen her have so he supposed that was some indication that she was content where she was.

"I'm so glad that she found them," Elizabeta said, putting the postcard aside. "Whose letter should I open next?"

"Let's see what Antonio has to say."

"Maybe he and the twins are coming to visit again," she said happily as she opened the letter. She hadn't seen any of them since her wedding two years earlier. They all kept in touch via hundreds of letters a year and through Ludwig who often went to Italy for the new business he was working for.

"What does it say?" Roderich asked as Elizabeta scanned the letter.

"Well first off Ludwig is visiting again. Or at least he was when Antonio wrote this. He's probably still there."

"Do you think that he will stay this time?"

Elizabeta smiled, "I think so. And not just for business reasons."

"Lovino won't be happy about that."

"It might not be a problem. Antonio writes that he's going back to Spain soon."

"Is that so? What about his job?"

"Apparently, it's been decided by the family that neither Feliciano or Lovino are cut out to lead it."

"I could have told you that," Roderich mumbled.

"So Antonio is no longer needed as their bodyguard. Well isn't that loving? Your kids don't turn out the way you wanted so you leave them unprotected," Elizabeta said frowning.

"So Antonio's just going to leave them?"

"Well if Ludwig stays—and I'm pretty sure that he's going to—then Feliciano will have him. As for Lovino, well he'll follow Antonio anywhere."

"You think so?"

Elizabeta nodded, "Yes. He'll never admit it, but he won't let Antonio go—at least not without him. I can't believe Antonio is still so oblivious to his feelings."

"Nothing surprises me about those three anymore. Is that the entire letter?"

"Antonio wants to know when he'll be getting his part of the divorce settlement." Roderich blushed and looked away.

"It's still being processed," he said.

"It's been almost three years."

"Things like that take time."

Elizabeta sighed. Her husband could be so cheap sometimes. One of these days she was just going to wire the money to Antonio herself.

Finally, she moved on to Gilbert's letter. Roderich stood up from the table when she opened it.

"You can read that one to yourself. I would rather not hear what lewd behavior your cousin has gotten up to now." He began to arrange ingredients on the kitchen counter in preparation for lunch. Since Antonio had left, he had been forced to learn how to cook for himself. Elizabeta's food wasn't terrible…it just wasn't as good as Antonio's. She didn't enjoy cooking either so most of the time the meals were left to Ludwig—if he was home—or Roderich, who had adopted a fondness for cake recipes.

Elizabeta grinned as she read Gilbert's letter. Francis had decided to become a part-time designer. Elizabeta was impressed. The package contained a sample of his most recent work. Elizabeta winced. She still liked Francis very much, but she didn't trust him and suspected that whatever was in the box had a lot of lace, silk and not much covering. She would open it when Roderich was asleep.

Gilbert and Francis were still living next to the American and British reporters, who had decided to extend their stay. Gilbert said in his letter that him and Francis were still unsure whether the two men were just roommates or actually together. Francis was sure that they were secretly in love. Gilbert thought that they just needed to screw each other senseless. Elizabeta burst out laughing at this part.

"I really don't want to know," Roderich said from the stove.

Elizabeta snickered, "You really don't."

Gilbert continued by confirming that he and Francis would be visiting again for Christmas that year and that he hoped to be an uncle by then. Elizabeta scowled at this. She was in no hurry to have children and Gilbert better think again if he thought that when she did she would allow them to spend more than five minutes in his or Francis' company.

With a promise to write again soon, Gilbert finished the letter by describing Francis' elaborate plan to rope Alfred and Arthur—their neighbors—into a foursome. Laughing, Elizabeta refolded the letter.

"I'm guessing that he's doing well," Roderich said, sitting back down. The pot on the stove hissed softly.

Elizabeta giggled, bits of the letter still floating around in her head—especially the last part, "He's doing great."

"Are he and Francis still planning on getting married?"

"He didn't mention it, but I think they've given up on the idea. Neither of them is really the marrying type and they're happy the way they are. I don't think they could find a willing priest either. Not everyone can be as lucky as you and Antonio were."

"It wasn't luck, it was bribery."

Elizabeta laughed, "You never told me that!"

"Because it's nothing to be proud of. Anyway, like you said, they are happy the way they are. Marriage isn't for everyone." She raised an eyebrow and he added quickly, "Of course you and I are one of the luckier ones."

Elizabeta smiled. "Very true. I think we can even count as happily ever after."

"I wouldn't go that far."

Elizabeta made a face and Roderich gave her one of his rare smiles that had her falling love with him all over again.

"Let's go to the music room," she said.

"What about lunch?"

"Just one song."

"Which one?"

"You should know by now."

"I'll never understand why that one is your favorite," Roderich said as they walked to the music room.

"Because you were playing it when we met," Elizabeta took her place behind Roderich and let her thoughts drift as he began.

When she had first heard the song, she had called it truth. Blunt and merciless it had reflected the pain in her heart and, at the time, she had believed that she had understood it. But she had been wrong. It was not truth, it was just a song. Beautiful and somber, it was enchanting. But it was not the sound that mattered but what it had done when it had ended. The song had brought together two people wrapped in the bitter silence of their own grief and guilt and together, they had mended what was broken and filled what was empty with love.

Roderich finished the last note with a flourish and arranged the sheets of music so that the title page was on top.

Yes, Elizabeta thought, the song was aptly named.

It was called "Serendipity"

The End

A/N: Endings always make me emotional ;A; I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love AusHun so expect more of them from me in the future.

And with that, I declare this fic DONE. Thanks again!

-with love

dancer