A/N: Thank you to Lunasilvia for giving me this prompt. I would just like you to know that you're the best reader that an author could ever ask for :) Many thanks for your continued support!
Disclaimer: I shouldn't have to say this (as it should be obvious enough), but in no means am I justifying the holocaust or any of the atrocities that occurred during WW2. I'm simply giving a nation's point of view of the conflict, and how they're forced to stand with their people.
Early August, 1945…
"The deadliest conflict in human history."
Silence.
You couldn't even hear the sound of a pen scribbling against a notepad. Uh, not that our world meetings have ever been remotely productive in the first place. But alas, peasants, this world meeting was the shittiest of them all. Death had wreaked its havoc upon Europe again; silence was its only aftermath. It would feel inappropriate to disturb the silence. The misery in the air was almost comforting, like you knew that things were going to get worse, so you didn't want anyone to speak and disturb this false sense of peace.
Peace.
That's another lie.
The world was still in a formal state of war, which meant that we were all dressed in our military uniforms; stiff as boards; no one daring to breathe too loudly despite the fact that their land and souls were being torn apart at the seams. Some countries were luckier than others. Those tyrants, or 'victors' as they liked to call themselves, were the ones leading the meeting. It was the second time that Ludwig wasn't heading it.
Heck.
It was the second time that Ludwig had lost.
Perhaps I should explain how this entire shithole began. Two words, mein friends; power politics. It all started with the Great War. Empires wanted to flash off their military balls to one another, and you can only guess how rash things had become when the testosterone was running at its all-time high. All it took was for one Serbian twerp to throw the entire continent of Europe into chaos. Alliances were formed, broken, and rivalled against.
And what better reason to fight than to support your allies? Or rather, use the war as an excuse to conquer and enslave further territories? Oi, just because I'm self-aware of my own selfishness and greed, doesn't mean that I'm unable to recognize it.
It was the aftermath of the Great War, however, which really gets my blood boiling. There can be no peace when the so-called victors dominate and humiliate the sovereignty of the losing nations. I would know, I was one of them. There is nothing gracious about victory. Land is taken away, humans lose their autonomy, and nations are torn apart:
Ludwig's empire seized to exist. Ivan's empire seized to exist, but to be fair, his people were the ones crazy enough to overthrow that creepy tsar jerk. Sadiq's empire seized to exist, although I say good riddance to the crapwad. And then there was Elizabeta and her pathetic husband Roderich, whose empire had also been thrown into the waste bin, now a tragic relic of the past.
I've only ever truly cared about Elizabeta and Ludwig. The end of the Great War was awful because it had forced me to pick who to stand by. Elizabeta's divorce had broken her; her love for Roderich was something that us nations were all jealous of and longed for ourselves. I never longed for love. I longed for Elizabeta, but she had only ever seen me as a friend. It killed me not to be there for her at a time when she needed a friend most.
Unfortunately, a nation looks after himself first. Ludwig had gotten the short end of the stick after the Great War. All of his territories were split and parcelled out between the victors. More than that, the Treaty of Versailles had forced him to accept full responsibility for the war, which is complete bullshit if you ask me.
Francis was out looking for blood, setting the reparation figures at an impossibly large sum for Ludwig to pay off. Ludwig had also been forced to disarm, although I'll give Franny that one. It wasn't very awesome of my little bruder to invade Belgium and France so mercilessly. But, all's fair and love and war, right? Francis of all people should know that by now…
Irony.
There was lots of irony after the Great War. As a young nation, Alfred was still concerned with making himself a good reputation in the international sphere. Funny that his president was so adamant on creating peace only after they had joined the war. The Americans seemed to have no problem ignoring it until their own hides were put on the chopping board. God forbid that alliances be formed without their consent…
The biggest clusterfuck of all was the League of Nations. No organization could ever stop a war if all its members were self-interested nation states. 'Ensuring self-determination' mein ass. All those blokes ever cared about was protecting their own borders. Sovereignty was the backbone of all nations, and if a nation didn't have it, you could sure as hell expect them to fight for it.
Ludwig had suffered enough. His dignity as a respectable nation was tarnished by Francis's efforts to weaken him. Even though the imperial government had been replaced with a republic, the people of Germany fought back against their oppressive submission. At first, this idea had sounded great. Ludwig formed an alliance with Japan and Italy; together the three of them seemed unstoppable; they would rebuild their empires and sustain their reputation as great powers of this world.
And then came the atrocities.
What was before unstoppable, needed to be stopped. The entire war needed to be stopped. There were no purely good guys in this fight. Everyone was wrong; just some were more wrong than others. A nation had no control over what their people did. We only followed orders; we were automatons who followed the wishes of our subjects. We knew that what we were doing was wrong, but once a lunatic like Hitler becomes paranoid and power-hungry, you can't work fast enough to undo the evils that have already taken your people hostage.
Regardless, of how the Allies were going to portray the history of this second world war, not every German was bad. There was resistance, it just wasn't strong enough. Ludwig did what he could. He spent most of his time out fighting on the front to realize what was going on at home; true nationalism required a mascot, after all. There is no black and white when it comes to a nation's morals. They stand with their people; the problem is what happens when your people are pitted against each other.
Every German Jew killed hurt Ludwig just as much as any other 'Aryan, Christian' German did. Citizenship does not discriminate against religion. A German was a German, it was as simple as that. Once shit hit the fan, Ludwig was not fighting for Hitler's republic. He was fighting for his people. He knew that he was going to lose the war. He stuck with Italy even when Sicily had been taken over, not because of his 'empire's will' but because Feliciano was his friend. Ludwig protected everyone but himself. His country was falling apart, and yet he still held his head high. He was ashamed by Hitler, but he didn't blame his people. He blamed fear.
Ludwig was not the bad guy that he would surely be painted out to be. He was neither good nor bad, like all nations were at some point in their existence. When asked to, Ludwig followed orders without hesitation, as not doing so caused him much physical pain. Going against the will of your nation was a dangerous game, especially when the psychopath leader possessed such pervasive control. Ludwig had both killed and saved many jews. He shot them if ordered to, but saved them if he wasn't being strangled by the tight leash that the regime had on him. Only Italy and I knew about the Swastika that had been branded into Ludwig's back; he had been caught smuggling jews into Switzerland on several occasions.
Look, in no way am I trying to justify what happened during this war. The point that I'm trying to get across is that war is never a simple matter for us personifications. We're often divided between picking the sides of our own people, and every death hurts us, regardless of their other identities. We represented nations, our citizens; we didn't care about anything else.
We were selfish beings who pillaged and acquired more land for our people. Just look at Japan; the lunatic pretty much had the entire Asian Pacific kneeling before his feet. Although, I'm not so sure how long that would last considering the rumours that have been circulating around since Potsdam. Japan was the only Axis power who hadn't surrendered at this point in time. Hence, the reason why he was absent from this meeting. Word of nuclear weapons had been kept on the downlow; the only thing known for sure was the Allies' ultimatum to attack Japan if they didn't surrender. Regardless, the fact that Churchill had asked Truman for Britain to be represented should an atomic bomb be dropped didn't sound very promising for Japan. This war has already created so many brilliant technological innovations; it terrifies me to imagine that this 'bomb' could create even more catastrophic destruction. It hardly seems possible…
A whimper in front of me caused my gaze to shift upwards. I spotted the Italy brothers, both who looked more worn down for wear. They had purple bags under their eyes, their faces shallow and thin from the struggle that continues to cause mayhem in their country. The war had pinned them against each other when the Allies had taken over the South, prompting Italy's surrender. The North had still been occupied by German troops until the last stretch of the war. Like the rest of Europe, Italy was in turmoil. Mussolini had been executed recently, but it would take a long time for the wounds of past horrors to heal. I could only imagine how much pain they had been in; were in; their nation had been ripped in half. They now sat with slumped shoulders and haggard facial expressions; we were all vulnerable and helpless to whatever the Allies decided to do with us.
The burning glare of Romano's amber eyes prompted me to look away. The jerk had always been overprotective of his brother, and didn't want anyone to see how hard Feliciano was crying. Newsflash! Everyone felt like shit! There was no point in trying to retain your pride. This war was a disgrace, which would only end in more domination. I've been around long enough to learn that. Let's just see if we don't fuck up as bad as last time and pretend that true peace exists.
I looked past Feliciano to spot the downright awful appearance of Ludwig. His normally slicked-back and neat blond hair was in shambles, falling right into his sickly, unnaturally pale face. Heck, he was almost as pale as me, and that's saying something! His sharp blue eyes were dead and dull; he reminded me of a cornered animal that had already accepted its death. The only movement that I saw from Ludwig was him occasionally rubbing Feliciano's hand with his thumb under the table. The only comfort that they could find was in each other. It disgusted me how weak war could make a nation. You would think that we were starved to the bone.
The Allies weren't exactly that well-off either. Arthur was a complete mess, despite the fact that his Prime Minister was a stubborn mule who just loved to talk big. The Brit held his tea-cup with shaking hands, furrowing his brows in frustration as Alfred continued to shout at the top of his lungs, barking orders and pointing fingers at nations like an insufferable toddler.
Francis was scary quiet, solemnly smoking a cigarette and twirling a thin index finger around in his ash tray. I never thought that I would see the day where Franny would willingly let his precious hands touch anything dirty. But, then again, his entire country was in ruins, so I suppose that there were much more important things for him to worry about. Ja, sorry about that buddy. Your magnificence amounts to shit all when it comes to military power.
Yao and Ivan were sitting at the far end of the table, the former of which had been mute for the entirety of the meeting. Even though Kiku had betrayed him, Yao was still clearly worried about his little brother. He had lived longer than all of us, and had a heart that was big enough to overlook the atrocities that the Japanese troops had committed against his people. War occurred so often between nations that grudges almost seemed childish.
Ivan, on the other hand, was murderously calm. His shrewd purple eyes looked around the room with a selfish kind of greed; he was ready to conquer and seek revenge on those who had wronged him. Russia had suffered many losses during the war, and that nutjob Stalin was relentless in asking for financial and land compensation. Of course, invading Germany wasn't enough for the Soviets. They also had to rape our women to satisfy their broken pride. That wasn't very awesome. Sure, we had signed a non-aggression pact promising not to invade (which we did, oops), but leave the woman and children out of this! I mean, not that I should be talking. Our troops were just as guilty. My problem with this is that these dummkophs will be painted as the good guys solely because they had won the war. None of their crimes will be given the light of day. Why? Because they're on the 'right' side. They were a bunch of self-righteous pricks!
Chills ran up and down my spine as I followed Ivan's gaze. He was looking at countries as if they were mere chess pieces for him to knock down into submission. Russia had never truly gotten rid of its empire; it had merely changed its name. The USSR was expanding at an accelerated rate. It had already absorbed parts of Poland, the three Baltics, and parts of Romania. It was a given that Ivan would be taking over some of Ludwig's territory. As to how much? That would be settled near the end of the meeting. I'm practically quivering in excitement! That was sarcasm, if you couldn't already tell.
Greedy, psychotic bastard…
I growled lowly under my breath, causing Ivan to look my way and sneer back. My presence at this meeting was virtually pointless. I wasn't even technically a country. I had no real right to be here.
Story time!
The awesome me, that being Prussia, had united the principalities of several German states to create a unified German empire back in 1871. The Holy Roman empire was ruled under my leadership. With the loss of the empire after the Great War, good old Ludwig had returned the favour by causing me to lose my independence in 1933. I was absorbed into his state, and was put under his leadership. The asshole doesn't fall very far from the tree, now does it?
I growled again when Ivan spared a teasing glance at Elizabeta, who had her head bowed down to hide her face. If that asshole even thought of touching her I'd-!
I clenched my fists together in frustration.
Who am I kidding? I wouldn't be able to do shit all. I had no power, and soon Ludwig wouldn't have any either. Elizabeta had joined the axis in 1941, but that woman had always been a complicated piece of crazy. Her people resisted, and had pulled off many anti-German demonstrations. In the end it hadn't mattered, even when they had attempted to pull out of the alliance in 1944. The Germans invaded and had taken over without any hesitation. I was too ashamed to even speak to Elizabeta ever since that incident.
Other than the pitiful glance here and there, we were pretty much invisible to each other. She refused to look at anyone, letting her long brown hair hide the devastated expression on her face. She was shaking, sitting next to her exhausted ex-husband who looked a good thirty years older than the physical age of his human body.
How can you be so close, yet so far away?
I should be the one comforting you, damn it.
Roderich was trying to remain dignified, sitting straight and stiffly in his chair. The jerkwad had a hand resting over the back of Elizabeta's head, soothing his fingers through her thick muss of curls. He nervously cleared his throat every now and then, his eyes darting across the room in fear. Roderich was the most screwed next to Ludwig and yours truly. He was part of the Third Reich, so he can sure as hell expect to lose his autonomy. The asshole was still refusing to accept that he was just as helpless and lost as the rest of us.
Speaking of which.
Things took a turn for the worse when the discussion shifted towards partitioning:
The Allies established occupation administrations in both Austria and Germany.
We all knew that was going to happen.
Alfred was quick to intervene, inquiring about the situation of Japan should they surrender. Arthur silenced his former charge with a dismissive and irritated flick of the wrist. It became obvious that Alfred wanted to occupy Japan for himself. I gritted my teeth in anger. That brat was only concerned about himself. Years of selfishness has changed him for the worse. I remember training his soldiers back when he had been fighting for his own freedom; what a mistake that was. The kid would turn out to be just as power-hungry as Arthur, I could already see it in his eyes. The world would have been better off if he had stayed in isolation (thanks a lot, Kiku).
This war had given birth to two new tyrants, one that fought for a false notion of freedom, and one that strived for a false sense of equality. Ivan's communist ideology was already beginning to spread throughout Eastern Europe. Although it wasn't said outright, Alfred was beginning to push his capitalist ideology in the fear that Ivan's economic model would triumph. It was no longer a matter of the Allies vs the Axis. The rivalries were shifting; the division was now drawn between the East and the West.
This became evident when those bastards split Ludwig into four pieces, like he was a bloody piece of pie to share from. They did the same with Roderich, but I honestly could care less about that fiddle fuck. Ja, I just called Roddy a fiddle fuck, get over it. Anyways! France, America, and England controlled the three military zones in the west of Ludwig's territory, while Ivan controlled the military zone in the East, which included East Prussia.
I could feel everyone staring at me, but I didn't bother to return their looks. I already knew that I had lost. I was just waiting for the moment where they finally got rid of me.
The meeting droned on, history shamelessly repeating itself. The Allies called for de-Nazification, which entailed getting rid of all Nazi influence in Germany, and putting those who had committed the most terrible war crimes on trial in Nuremberg. Ludwig was stripped of his military, proving that we haven't learned a single thing from last time. Those assholes were also calling for the democratization of Germany, although I hardly see how that was possible given the fact that they controlled all parts of the country. Ludwig lost nearly three-quarters of his territory, as was to be expected.
When it came to me, I already knew that I was screwed. East Prussia was divided between Feliks and Ivan among the Oder-Neisse line. I became so livid that I was able to hear my heart pounding in my ears.
Those pussies!
They didn't even bother to abolish me formally! Was a dignified death really too much to ask for? My land was not my land, and yet here I am, sitting here like a goddamned idiot for everyone else to laugh at. They must have done this on purpose, just to spite me.
I couldn't believe it.
I ceased to exist in de facto.
What a joke…
The meeting closed on deaf ears, and I was quick to leave the room as soon as the victors had wrapped up with their pillaging spree. I'm pretty sure that I heard Ludwig call after me, but I was too far gone at this point. I wanted to be alone; to get away from the stares and whispers of the hypocrites surrounding me…
"Gilbert!"
I froze when I felt someone grab my wrist, preventing me from exiting the room, or rather, prison.
I turned around, looking down into a pair of puffy green eyes.
I grit my teeth. "Now's not a good time, Elizabeta," I growled, shaking my wrist free from her grip.
Elizabeta glared right back at me, only to calm herself before speaking again. Several long strands of honey-brown hair stuck to her cheeks, the wetness of them revealing a vulnerability that she rarely let others see. The woman sure was stubborn, all right.
"What?!" I irately spluttered, glancing away when I felt her studying my face.
I wanted to look at her, but I couldn't. I wanted to hug her; to wrap my arms around her, but I wasn't brave enough. Deep down I had always been coward. It just sucks that it took me until now of all times to realize this.
Hurt flashed across Elizabeta's face.
Way to kick a guy when he's already down.
Gott, I was such a horrible person…
"I just," she faltered. "Wanted to see if you were okay?"
My chest erupted with hurt, prompting me to laugh bitterly and shake my head in disbelief. "Seriously?" I hissed. "That's a real dumb question, don't you think? I represent a land that I no longer own. How the hell do you think I feel?"
Elizabeta sniffed, stifling a sob rising in her own chest. "You're right…I'm sorry for asking."
"Is that all?" I asked impatiently.
No.
This isn't how I wanted things to end.
Elizabeta bowed her head, not having anything more to say. The woman who I loved was gone. This war had ruined us all.
I turned my back on her. "Well then, if you don't mind, I have somewhere else to be."
Anywhere but here.
What I would give to take you with me…
Elizabeta didn't respond. Tears streaked down her face, but I didn't see this. I only heard her whimpers of grief. She was one of the few people who wouldn't give me pity. And it was for this reason that she didn't chase after me.
I took a step forward.
And another one.
And another one.
Until I was far enough away that I could feel my entire body screaming in agony.
Go back to her! What are you doing?!
I'm leaving before I can cause her any more hurt.
It's only a matter of time before I died for real.
Might as well make myself dead to the world before it actually happened.
…
1946:
"Control Council Law No. 46, signed on 25 February, liquidates the State of Prussia, its central government, and all its agencies."
…
February 26, 1946: Budapest
I could feel myself fading away. It had taken those assholes long enough to finally end my misery. For the most part, I've spent the last nine months of my life in isolation. I spoke with Ludwig on occasion, but since we resided in different zones, we never really got the chance to be brothers to one another. The Allies took great measures to cut off our communication, but perhaps this was for the best. Everyone already knew that I was goner; it was only a matter of time before I ceased to exist.
I couldn't bring it in myself to say goodbye to Ludwig. Word of my abolishment must have reached him at this point, but I wanted his memory of me to be a good one. If he saw what I looked like now…Gott, it would haunt him. That's why I left without saying anything. He knows that I'll always stand with him. I want him to remember me as his strong, older brother; not the sack of skin and bones that I am now.
I wanted to die with dignity, anywhere but the place that I've been kept captive in. Ivan was the last person whom I wanted to see. Hopefully, that manipulative bastard will at least have the courtesy to give Ludwig the note that I had left for him.
I was saving my last words for someone truly special to me. Someone who I didn't deserve to spend my last moments with. I've always been selfish, and today certainly wasn't an exception to that rule. I know that what I was doing made me completely unawesome, but I didn't care. I've been holding in these feelings for far too long to let them die with me. She deserved to know how I felt about her. Timing be damned, I would let Elizabeta know just how much I loved her. Every one of our past squabbles was merely me being too cowardly to admit that I felt whole with her. Even when I was falling apart, threatening to fade away at any given moment, the mere thought of her made me feel strong again.
I was running out of time. I clearly hadn't thought any of this through. I kept my head ducked low, hiding the unnatural redness of my eyes and whiteness of my hair behind the rough black material of my trilby hat. I walked in quick strides, shivering as a cold winter breeze blew past me, ruffling through the looseness of my tweed suit (I wanted to die with grace, thank you very much). I was wearing all black, ironically, but I suppose that it suited the mood. I was conducting my own funeral, a shitshow that would surely end in two broken hearts.
I pulled out a crumpled note from my breast pocket, affirming that I was in fact in the correct neighborhood. I was in a working-class area, one that held several small one-room flats. The area was a barren of white; no one ventured out of their homes due to the harsh weather outside. Other than the occasional foot print of small children, no one dared to show their face. The country was still in a state of confusion after yet another political upheaval. Hungary was now a republic instead of a kingdom. Labels thrown to the wind, nothing could change the fact that Europe was suffering from severe hyperinflation and food shortages. It was a time when the home was the only place where a person could feel safe; the one retreat that safeguarded against the horrors of the outside world. I was a ghost of a past nation traversing in a ghost town. How awesomely poetic.
I climbed up the wooden steps of Elizabeta's front porch, blinking black spots out of my eyes.
Not now.
Just give me a few more minutes.
I don't know how, but I found myself leaning against her door for support, breathing heavily. I waited a moment until the fading sensation went away. The dizziness eventually subsided, and I felt solid again. Not wanting to push my luck, I knocked on her door in two swift raps.
I heard feet pounding against wooden planks. It wasn't long before Elizabeta opened the door, a confused expression on her face. Confusion switched to surprise before finally resting with a guarded stare. She looked just as bad as me: we were both in utter ruins. Her hair was matted, sticking up in different directions despite the bandana that kept it back. Her face was shallower than what I remembered, but she still held the same amount pride in those stubborn chartreuse eyes of hers. She was wearing a faded green maid's dress, with a white apron that hugged her now much thinner waistline.
I felt my mouth part open in awe. Even when she was at her worst, she still had this uncanny talent of making my heart beat painfully fast.
I took off my hat, politely bowing my head in courtesy. "Oi…do you have a moment?" I asked, sheepishly quirking my lips into a half smile.
Elizabeta inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing. "Do I have a moment?" she hissed. "How dare you come here after everything that you've done! Where were you, Gilbert? Did you not get my letters? Or how about Ludwig's? We've all been worried sick about you!"
Elizabeta trailed off, nervously fiddling with the tips of her hair. You could tell that she had held onto this anger for a long time now.
I blinked harshly. Things were already taking a turn for the worse. "Ivan only lets me see the letters. He rarely lets me reply to them."
Elizabeta opened her mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. She took an awkward step back, raising her arm to invite me inside. The grimace on her face was one of understanding. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that… Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?"
I followed her inside, shaking my head. "No, no, that's alright. I won't be too long, promise. I don't want to trouble you."
Elizabeta spun around. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Gilbert? You've never been this polite to me, ever. Do I have something that you want? Is that it?" she accused.
I swallowed heavily, even though my voice still cracked when I talked. Word of my abolishment must not have reached her yet. Great, this just made things much more difficult than it had to be.
"Is it really such a crime for the awesome me to check up on your peasant country?" I chuckled weakly, despite not fooling her in the slightest. The wisecrack at her farmers clearly didn't amuse her either.
Elizabeta took my coat, her eyes widening when she noticed how thin I was. "Perhaps you should check up on yourself first, idiot," she tutted, a small smirk begging to be revealed on her face. "You're thinner than a beanpole."
"I see that you still have a big mouth," I teased.
Elizabeta simply rolled her eyes at my retort.
I reached out to ruffle her hair, but Elizabeta ducked out of the way. She had already anticipated my attempt to use my height advantage over her.
How unawesome of her.
After hanging up my coat in the vestibule, Elizabeta led me into main room of her flat, a shabby space with a wooden stove, a sink, and a worn-down couch. The room was split into two, with the kitchen being on the right, and the living space on the left. A narrow hallway led off into what I assumed was the only bedroom.
Elizabeta bustled off into the kitchen, her way of insisting that I had something to drink.
I blinked spots out of my eyes again, gritting my teeth in annoyance.
Not now.
I stood between the kitchen and dining room, grabbing my forehead. Thankfully, Elizabeta had her back turned to me. She was pouring water into the kettle.
"Hey," I chided. "I said that I didn't want anything."
Elizabeta turned around, causing me to abruptly remove my hand from my forehead. "What kind of host would I be if I didn't offer anything to you?" she snorted, her lips trembling slightly.
I saw right through her.
She didn't have much to offer to begin with. There was no point in her wasting what little sustenance she had on me.
"Elizabeta-" I started.
Elizabeta slammed her hands onto the kitchen counter, causing splatters of hot water to pepper her wrists. "Enough!" she snapped. "I'll be fine, damn you! Now go sit down before I consider pouring this over your fat stupid head."
She had always been so stubborn.
I raised my hands in surrender. "Crazy lunatic," I muttered under my breath.
"What was that?!"
"Nothing."
I didn't bother to sit down. I simply stood there like an idiot, watching her fuss over the tea that I would never get to drink.
"Why did you come here anyways?" she inquired, grabbing a mug from one of her cabinets.
I cleared my throat. "I, um…don't know how to say this without being blunt."
Elizabeta's shoulders tensed.
"Well, go on," she said in a stiff voice. "Hardly anything surprises me these days."
I felt my chest fill with dread. It was best to just say it outright.
"Prussia doesn't exist anymore. The Allied Control council abolished me yesterday."
CRASH!
Elizabeta let go of the mug, causing it to shatter into pieces. Yellow liquid began to seep into the splintered floor.
"Is this some kind of joke?" she spat, turning around to give me an accusatory glare.
"W-what?" I spluttered. "No, of course not!"
Elizabeta stormed towards me. I didn't even bother to defend myself when she struck me across the face. It wasn't a hard blow, but it was enough to knock me over given my weakened state. My head cracked against the ground.
I only saw black.
Elizabeta's gasps were muffled.
"Gilbert! Gilbert! This isn't funny!"
I was lying on the floor, incapacitated by an excruciating amount of pain. I felt nauseous and hardly solid at all.
Something nudged my ribcage. "Gilbert! Get up, Gilbert, damn it! I get it already! Haha! The joke's over!"
"Why aren't you getting up?"
I felt something cup my face. "Gilbert!" Elizabeta wailed. "Answer me!"
I opened my eyes, blinking when something wet and hot splashed against my nose. "Eliza?" I croaked.
Elizabeta grabbed a fistful of my suit jacket, her chest shaking with uncontrollable sobs. "W-what do you mean you were a-abolished! Tell me that's not t-true!"
I remained silent.
"TELL ME!" Elizabeta shrieked.
I groaned, pulling myself up, only to have Elizabeta wrap her arms around my waist, her face buried into my collar-bone. We were sitting on the floor in a rather awkward position. My legs were spread open with Elizabeta sitting in the space between them. She was clinging to me as she sobbed into my chest.
I smoothed a hand over the back of her head, several tears of my own streaking down the rugged edges of my face. "Why would I lie at a time like this?" I whispered. "Silly girl."
I tucked my chin over her head. "I came here to say goodbye, alright? I can feel myself fading away, but I wanted to see you one last time. You will be the last thing that I see. I have no regrets."
"N-No!" Elizabeta pulled away, cupping my cheeks with trembling hands. "We can fix this! I-I'll give you some of my land! I can-!"
"Shhh," I cooed. "You know that we can't represent other land masses. I was born as Prussia and I will die as Prussia."
Elizabeta pounded a weak fist into my chest. "Why me?" she sobbed. "What about the others? Did you leave anything for them?"
"I left some things behind, yes. I mailed parts of my will out this morning. As for your first question-"
Elizabeta tightened her grip on me, foolishly believing that she could ignore the fact that I was fading away and becoming less and less solid by the minute. "I don't think that I've ever met someone as selfish as you. You couldn't even give your own brother a proper goodbye," she whimpered.
"Ludwig likes to read. He'd prefer for it to be this way."
"What gives you the right to decide things like that?" Elizabeta snapped.
"You're right. I'm sorry," I admitted sheepishly.
Silence.
"Elizabeta."
"What?!"
"Look at me, liebling."
Elizabeta reluctantly looked up to meet my gaze.
I pressed my forehead against hers, both of our chests rising and falling unsteadily with wails of pain that were aching to be released.
"I love you. I always have. I wanted you to know that before…you know," I trailed off.
Elizabeta shook her head in denial. "I hate you so much."
And then she did something that completely contradicted her last statement.
Elizabeta pressed her lips against mine, our mouths engaging in an aggressive and desperate tempo of clashing teeth and warmth. "Damn you!" she cursed, tightening her grip on the collar of my suit. "Of all the times that we've spent together, you choose now to tell me this?"
I deepened the kiss. "I didn't have much of a choice," I grumbled against her mouth.
That's a lie.
I did have a choice.
I had chosen to live the life of a coward.
Eventually, we pulled away from each other, breathing heavily. The kiss was perfect, and yet it still left us both unsatisfied. It was too quick and too promising of something that could never truly be.
"I love you," I repeated.
Elizabeta rubbed her nose against mine. "Please…" she croaked. "Don't g-go."
"I can't fight fate, you crazy woman."
"How can you say that? You're just not trying hard enough!"
There was no point in arguing with her.
I brought her into a tight hug. "Good bye, Elizabeta. I can't put it into words how grateful I am to have had you in my life."
"Ich…"
I began to wheeze, feeling a tingling sensation tickle the bottom of my feet.
The last regret that bound me to this world had just been severed.
"Liebe…"
My vision began to fade.
Regardless, I could still feel the smile stretched across my face.
The last smile that I would ever give; to the person whom I cared about most.
"Dich…"
As I felt my presence lift from the room, I heard Elizabeta shout and bawl all together.
"I-I LOVE YOU TOO!"
…
February 27th, 1946:
Roderich was in a solemn mood. He had spent most of his afternoon staring at the snow blowing about outside. He wasn't in the mood to play music. In fact, he wasn't in the mood to do much of anything. He felt as miserable as the cold winter weather outside. Things just weren't worth caring about, in his opinion.
Loneliness.
That was what he was feeling.
CHIRP! CHIRP!
Roderich blinked, narrowing his eyes in confusion. He must have stared out the window for too long again.
CHIRP! CHIRP!
Roderich nearly jumped when a yellow ball of fluff and ice rapped against his living room window.
"What in Gott's name…?"
Roderich rolled open the hatch of the window, taking a step back when a gale of sleet peppered his face.
A small yellow canary dove into the room, flitting about before it finally situated itself on the windowsill. Attached to its leg was a small leather pouch.
Roderich's lips parted open in recognition.
The bird chirped impatiently, prompting Roderich to untie the pouch from its leg.
Inside the pouch was a small piece of parchment paper. Roderich immediately recognized the messy handwriting:
CACAW!
Hallo loser!
Because I'm so awesome, I expect you to give me lots of treats and head rubs!
Oh.
Gilbert says hi. He also says to stop being such a loser.
(P.S. How does it feel to be conquered by yet another Beilschmidt? Kesesese)
Sincerely,
Your new master
-Gilbird
Roderich let himself smile for the first time in what had felt like ages. "That imbecile. Now I'll never get rid of him."
CHIRP! CHIRP!
"Oh hush, you. You're just as loud and obnoxious as your vati."
…
1949:
West Germany gained independence from its occupiers.
Meanwhile, the German Democratic Republic, otherwise known as East Germany, was established. The Soviets handed over control to the Socialist Unity Party. Despite this, the GDR quickly became a satellite state of the USSR.
…
October 7th, 1949
I stirred into consciousness, immersed in a state of confusion. Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing here?
I could feel something soft beneath me. I was quite comfortable, actually. It was a lethargic sense of awareness that was too pleasant for me to complain about.
Color.
Color was revealed behind two dark veils.
I had opened my eyes.
My memory was slowly beginning to unravel.
I inherently knew that I was a personification.
But what was it that I represented again?
I was in a room, a big one with many shadows cast against the floral wallpaper covering the walls. I lay in a large, four-poster bed, a nightstand with an oil lamp resting to my right. I was wearing a rough and scratchy grey night shirt with matching pants. I shivered, not having any blanket to cover myself with. The temperature in the room was unnaturally cold. A draft from the window in the left-hand side of the room was the source of the coolness.
A creak of the wooden floorboards caused my gaze to shift over to the room's entrance. A large figure entered. I struggled to make out their appearance, but the light of the oil lamp wasn't doing me any favors. It must have been late at night.
"Kolkolkol…"
The figure laughed, sending chills running up and down my spine.
I nervously looked around the room, trying to stay calm. If I sat up now, I knew that I would feel dizzy. This was all very confusing and overwhelming for me to properly assess the situation. My mind was still groggy, and yet I felt a sense of recognition settle in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't a good sense of recognition, I can tell you that.
The figure began to make his way over to me, his heavy boots calmly and patiently thudding against the floor. He was taking his sweet time, nonchalantly humming under his breath.
When he finally walked under the light of the oil lamp, I froze. Blonde hair…leering purple eyes…the beige trench coat…and that smile…the goddamned smile that could freeze anything over with just one glance.
It all came together now.
Ivan.
Russia.
Gilbert.
Prussia…
I was Prussia!
But I thought that I had died?
Clearly something must have happened to change that.
I began to squirm in the bed, wildly looking around to salvage some form of understanding.
My eyes faltered at the Soviet flag that was hung on the far end of the room.
What the hell was I doing here?!
Of all the places that I could be…
"Oh! You're finally awake~!" Ivan exclaimed, stopping at the side of the bed to loom over me.
I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. My throat was beyond dry. I sounded like a wounded animal; it was absolutely humiliating.
Ivan shed me with a wolfish smile. He grabbed a cup of water from the nightstand and held it out for me to take. "Here, drink," he ordered.
I sat up, groaning when I felt the blood rush to my head.
I accepted the cup with trembling fingers, slowly bringing it to my lips. The water was gone within seconds.
I gasped, setting the cup back onto the nightstand. "Ivan? W-what happened?" I wheezed. "What year is it?"
Ivan sat on the foot of the bed, causing the mattress to sink. "It's 1949," he answered. "You haven't been gone for long, little one, not to worry. Although, I must say, you hurt me very much by not saying goodbye. I didn't appreciate that at all."
Despite his jolly tone, I could sense Ivan's irritation. I must have 'embarrassed' him. Well, tough shit, asshole. He had made a complete joke of me back then. The Soviets had full control of Germany's east most zone. I hadn't even been spared a second thought back then.
"No matter," Ivan continued. "Things will be different this time, da?"
My shoulders tensed. "What do you mean by different?" I asked.
"I've decided to give you full control over your administration. You go by a different name now. Would you like to hear it?"
Ivan didn't give me much of a chance to answer, as was expected from him.
"You are now known as the German Democratic Republic. But don't let the freedom I'm willing to spare fool you. It is I who will represent you at the world meetings. You are under my sphere of influence; I hold zero tolerance for dissent. Dare to make me look bad and you will pay for it dearly. Do I make myself clear?"
"I don't want your 'freedom'. I am Prussia and nothing else. You can't make me represent something that I'm not."
I stuck up my chin, looking Ivan directly in his furious violet eyes.
Ivan raised his hand.
I didn't stand a chance.
SMACK!
I flew off the bed, landing on my face.
I cried out when Ivan aimed a swift kick to my stomach, winding me.
"You haven't changed one bit, little one. You and Elizabeta both are very annoying to deal with. You will represent the GDR regardless if you want to or not. You exist because you are needed. Be grateful that fate has decided to give you a second chance. Be grateful that I've let you sleep in my bed; that I'm letting you live in my house…"
Ivan's words went in one ear and out the other. I only heard one thing and that was Elizabeta.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER, YOU SICK BASTARD?!" I bellowed, rolling onto my feet.
I surged towards Ivan, raising my fist to smash his smug face in.
Ivan caught my wrist, snapping the bone in an effortless motion. I was then flung against the dresser like a rag doll.
I slumped to the ground while Ivan loomed over me. "I've done nothing but good for Elizabeta. She's just like you; tough, loves to fight, but always loses. Her government is also under my sphere of influence. The world has changed, little one. Communism prevails!"
"I'm going to kill you," I hissed. "As soon as these wounds heal, you'll be choking on my fist!"
I'll fucking kill him for even looking at her the wrong way…
"How adorable~!" Ivan cooed. "Your threats serve as nothing but mere entertainment to me."
The man was mad with power; he was using my weakness to fuel his strength.
Ivan bent down, grabbing a fistful of my hair. "Who are you?"
"Prussia," I grunted back.
SMACK!
"Who do you serve?"
"No one."
SMACK!
I looked at Ivan through the eye that wasn't swollen shut.
"Who are you?" Ivan repeated, clenching his jaw.
"Go…to…hell…" I panted.
My vision blacked out when Ivan slammed my head against the dresser; he repeated this abuse several times.
"There is no heaven, hell, or god anymore. There is only hard work, sweat and blood," Ivan spat.
"Who are you?" he repeated.
I tasted blood in my mouth. "Prussia!"
I finally caved when Ivan began to use my own fist to assault me.
"Who are you?"
Blood trickled down my face, dripping off my chin. "The German Democratic Republic," I croaked.
"Who do you serve?"
"The USSR…" Ivan raised his fist, and I was quick to correct myself, "You."
Ivan straightened his posture, using my hair to wipe off the blood, my blood, from his hands. I nearly bit my tongue in half when he patted my head. "What a good little puppet state you are," he crooned.
The next thing I knew Ivan was already standing by the door.
I must have fainted briefly.
"There are clothes in the wardrobe for you to change in. Raivis and Toris will help you clean up this…mess," Ivan smirked at his own sick sense of humour.
"All members of this household must contribute. Be productive, little puppet. I don't accept selfishness of any kind. Next time you decide to disobey me, I won't be so lenient."
I was hardly capable of forming words. Not that I had anything more to add to this delightful conversation.
When I was sure that Ivan was gone, I broke down into tears.
I had always been Prussia.
I couldn't possibly represent something else.
Who am I?
Prussia.
Damn it.
Who am I?
Prussia.
What am I experiencing?
Denial.
Who am I?
The next few words that escaped my lips went against everything that I stood for.
"The German Democratic Republic…"
-The End
So, yeah... Many of you guys read my stories for romance and comedy, but a lot of my own original fiction is mostly serious (like this) or from the horror genre.
I can't tell you how terrified and nervous I was to upload this, still am... (I'm literally shaking right now, oh my)
Would you like me to write more historical hetalia...?
Have a great day/night
-Ella