Author's note: Woke up and realized I had nothing to post today. What‽ So as I beta a friend's story and work on so many chaptered fics it'll make your head spin, have this. It's actually part of a longer chaptered fic I haven't finished yet, the one I'm iffy about posting, but you guys seem to like my OC and I do do original writings so maybe I will. Eventually. I do have like 6 chapters done and it's going to feature all my favorite characters (GAPH, France, the Nords, Russia, you name it). Because I can.

So for now here's something cute. Happy Valentine's Day! Jtm!

Interview

"Herr Beilschmidt," the young girl starts in a too-proper voice for her age; it makes Ludwig laugh. At that she pulls a face, shuffling her papers on her lap in annoyance. Still smirking the German pulls himself together, straightening his suit.

"I am ready when you are Frau," he says, his face set.

"Good," she replies, finding her first question. "What is your full name?"

"Ludwig Gilbert Friedrich Wilhelm Beilschmidt, Bundesrepublik Deutschland."

Without missing a beat the girl's response and question roll forward together. "Snappy name. And in what year were you born?"

"Officially 1871, though I myself existed before that."

"Very good, very good. Earliest memory?"

"Hmm." That one takes a minute, the girl writing furiously as she waits. "Playing in the gardens of Schloss Charlottenburg with Elizabeta while my brother and her husband watched."

"Lovely," the flat voice responds but Ludwig can see the smile hidden behind her papers as the girl adjust her glasses, an old pair from her mother with the lenses popped out. "And your fondest memory?"

He smirks. "Another good question."

"My readers demand it," the girl informs him haughtily, her « readers » being the other nations.

"If I had to pick one, I suppose it would be Roderich and I being reunited with Gilbert and Elizabeta." When the girl quirks an eyebrow he amends his statement. "In terms of my pre-2020 memories, of course. But those are more... personal, in nature."

Satisfied, she shifts. "And now, my most challenging question: hardest memory to reflect back on?"

At that Ludwig sits back, taking in the girl. He wants to be honest but she's young, and Ludwig has nearly a century of difficult memories. But that gets him thinking, because to lie he'd have to know the truthful answer, and he's not sure of what it'd be. A thousand images flood his mind, a million more following after. But the battle comes to the forefront, that feeling of inevitable doom that even the other nations pity him for having felt.

Ludwig closes his eyes and the buildings are on fire, tanks rolling toward them. It's the last German building: once they surrender, the war is over. He already knows Gilbert is unconscious in a make-shift hospital somewhere. Roderich is defying orders for the first time in his life, having left for Budapest to find the ex-wife he still very much loves, to try and save her from the Red Army. But who would save Ludwig's people? Old men and boys, ten years old, the age of the girl before him- they were called together to form the last army, to make Berlin's last stand.

So young! It hadn't been fair. He had looked into the heart of darkness, seen horrors unimaginable, watched little boys learn too quickly the cruelty of the world they would never grow to see-

"Vatti?" Blinking Ludwig sees the girl has risen and is standing before him, distressed at his distress. "Vatti, say something, please," she pleads quietly, tears in her eyes. That's when he realizes he had started crying too.

Two arms sweep her to him. "I love you Liebling. Let's get dinner now, ja?" She nods, hugging him, and his heart beings to calm just a little.