Hey, everyone! This is my first story, so I apologize for any FanFiction etiquette I've left out.
As Ludwig opened the back door of his father's vehicle, he felt a slight wind embrace him in congratulations. He had anticipated this day for weeks, and now he roused with his father and brother from the long drive to the Deutscher Youth Summer Training Day Camp. Mr. Beilschmidt had told him and his elder brother what a privilege it was to attend this particular facility: Ludwig had been reminded practically every morning and evening up to this date that Sector 12 was taboo to the rest of the Camp's members, as it offered rigorous training and discipline of which only the children of the wealthiest families in Europe were worthy.
"Sector 12 deserves your utmost respect and determination," Mr. Beilschmidt reminded his younger son one last time as Ludwig pushed his wind-strewn bangs back into place. "This opportunity has been made solely for you."
"Don't worry, Vater!" Gilbert piped up as he jumped from the front passenger seat. "My little bruder and I share the same awesome blood; our awesome strength and discipline will make all those other boys look like trembling little kittens!"
"Bruder, I wish you would be a little more bashful," Ludwig remarked as he was unceremoniously pulled from his seat by his sibling.. "Especially as this is our first step in fulfilling our duties to our German brethren-!"
"Ja ja, I can't hear you over my awesome desire to get there first!" Gilbert dismissed his brother as he ran off into the Meeting Hall. Ludwig stared in disapproval as his father bid him his final goodbyes for the day.
"It seems that you are my only child who cares to practice any reverence," Mr. Beilschmidt praised his son as he restarted the vehicle. "If Gilbert gets ahead of himself, remind him that I will be here by the day's end. Good luck, sohn."
Ludwig nodded, allowing a trace of a smile to form. As his father backed out of the dirt trail and sped down the road, the preteen entered the Sector 12 Meeting Hall with a sense of pride.
Hoping to avoid his brother at all costs, Ludwig made his way over to the row of chairs reserved for youths of age ten and sat down next to what he saw out of the corner of his eye was a scrawny, sleepy-looking boy with light brown hair.
Scanning the room from his seat, Ludwig noticed that the other members were remarkably diverse in age: Some boys looked as young as seven and as old as fifteen. I will do my best, Ludwig reassured himself, I will do my very best to live up to my status as a Deutscher Youth. None of these boys' families can compare to the pride and potential of the Beilschmidt name!
"Why the fuck are you sitting next to a savage like him?!" Ludwig started and turned to face a dark-haired teen, whose unexpectedly accented voice had rather rudely interrupted his determined reverie.
As he observed the older boy more carefully for a few heartbeats before he bellowed again, Ludwig noticed that he looked about the same age as Gilbert. He was scowling down at the brown-haired boy sitting across from him, and based on the similar distinctive curls in their hair Ludwig assumed they were brothers.
"Did I not make myself clear before we left, Feliciano?" The boy continued on in his Italian accent. "I specifically told you to sit next to me, and me, only!"
The boy supposedly named Feliciano, whose dozy facial expression had not gone away until now, began to protest fearfully. "But fratellone, Mr. Edelstein told me to sit here with the other boys my age!"
The older boy grabbed Feliciano's arms and shook him violently. "How many times have I told you not to listen to that stingy, aristocratic pile of barbarian filth! I will not allow my younger brother to be brainwashed any further-"
Unsure what to do until now, Ludwig attempted to intervene. Fellow Youth scouts, especially those who were siblings, were not meant to fight amongst each other. "Look, I think he can decide for himself where he wants to-" Ludwig began as he put his hand on the older boy's shoulder.
"Don't touch me, you fucking potato bastard!" The teen screamed, slapping Ludwig's hand away. "I will not have my brother and I infected by the blights from your mushy vegetables!"
All eyes in the room were staring now; some were cheering and rabbling, and others were shaking their heads in protest. "Don't you hit my little brother!" Ludwig heard his older brother's voice from behind the two Italian boys amidst the chaos.
Ludwig saw Gilbert's arms wrap around the other teen's waist, and in a second the boys were rolling on the wooden floor in a tussle. At that point, Mr. Edelstein, whom Ludwig had previously met in his Youth interview, had come with a soldier to break up the fight.
As Gilbert was restrained by the soldier, Mr. Edelstein loudly scolded the other teen in similarly accented German. "Lovino, I have told you repeatedly up to this date to treat your fellow Deutscher Youth scouts with respect! By betraying them, you have betrayed me, in addition to turning on your own family member!
"And as for the rest of you, I have expected better of the first group of scouts to serve in Sector 12! The next person to shift in their seat without my permission will be assigned to clean out the latrines for the remainder of the summer!"
The meeting hall grew silent upon this threat as Lovino was dragged to the group of boys his age by Mr. Edelstein and forcibly hoisted into a chair next to Gilbert. Feliciano had been crying the whole time, and Ludwig scowled at his less than silent continuation even after the fight was over.
As Mr. Edelstein approached the podium facing the center cluster of chairs, Ludwig's eyes followed the upward curl in his authority figure's dark hair bob to and fro eventually settle directly in front of his group.
"Welcome to Sector 12 of the Deutscher Youth Summer Training Day Camp. My name is Roderich Edelstein, and I am the overseer of group activities. I sincerely hope that my leadership will receive more respect for the duration of the summer than what was allotted just moments ago."
The meeting hall's occupants grew uneasy upon this remark. While some children nodded silently and others muttered a "Yes, sir," most boys remained motionless.
"In this Sector, you will receive harsh training fit only for the young boys of the most powerful families in central Europe. Each and every day, we will venture into the nearby woods and mountains, where we will practice every physical technique, from climbing trees to dodging bullets to trapping and capturing your fellow scouts.
"Each age group will be trained by a minor overseer, and each child will be assigned a partner of the same age." With these words, the Sector's leader turned back to the Italian boy named Lovino. "Due to the events which took place before my speech, my adopted son, Lovino Vargasso Edelstein, will be assigned to Gilbert Beilshcmidt as his partner."
The two boys feared for their lives at this point, and merely glanced at each other through narrowed eyes and nodded instead of protesting.
Mr. Edelstein continued on. "Ludwig Beilschmidt, due to your attempts to hinder the older boys' misbehavior, your assigned partner will be my younger son, Feliciano Vargasso Edelstein."
As Ludwig glanced again at the sniveling runt beside him, he did not know if this new responsibility were a reward or a punishment.
After every child was assigned a partner, the groups were immediately led out into the forest for their first training session. Ludwig's group was led by Mr. Hinova, and he felt a pang of sympathy for his brother as he noticed Mr. Edelstein directing the group of thirteen-year-olds to file out next to their respective partners.
Amidst the inevitable noise of children walking, Ludwig could hear his instructor ordering his fellow scouts to file out holding hands. He immediately felt a set of fingers a little smaller than his own wrap around his palm, and turned to see that the dreamy, dozy look had returned to the boy named Feliciano's face.
"Ciao,, amico! Thank you for saving me from getting beaten up by the bigger boys earlier! I know my big brother seems to get angry easily, but he's really a nice guy!"
The dozy look on Feliciano's face seemed fixed to perfection, so much so that Ludwig wondered if he was asleep whenever he wasn't talking. "Ja, sure thing, just don't cry during our training session."
Feliciano saluted with his free hand. "Sì, Ludwig, sir! I'll try my best, even though I'll cry when I get hit!"
I am most definitely getting punished for intervening, Ludwig thought to himself as he marched out to the woods hand-in-hand with Feliciano, the dopey boy's side curl bobbing rhythmically.
For those of you who are wondering, Milen Hinova is a fan-given name for Bulgaria.
I purposely left out details on the Beilschmidt and Edelstein families. We'll find out more about them in later chapters!
Please review. Any comments or critiques are greatly appreciated!
