Many Days Fell Away With Nothing to Show

Hushed voices were, Ludwig had decided, far worse than raised ones. At least when people shouted their emotions were clear, everything simply pouring out. Ludwig was not a fan of unchecked emotion, even though he himself was guilty of shouting like that, as he had quite the temper on him.

Regardless, he would much rather be hearing shouting from the room before him than only the occasional murmur of quiet tones. If only he could hear what was being said inside that conference room, one far too large for the only four people that occupied it.

If he were honest, he wasn't even sure why they needed to discuss anything. His fate, and that of Gilbert, had already been decided, he knew, between Alfred, Arthur, Ivan during the two weeks they had spent holed up in Potsdam. Although he did suppose it was entirely possible that they were merely informing Francis of their plans, as, for some reason, the Frenchman had not attended the conference. Ludwig didn't care why at this point-he was done caring. He had far too many new scars from the war, as well as the added toll of millions of souls on his conscience. As Gilbert often said, all nations went to hell. It was impossible they didn't, not when they had to pay for everything done in their names-every single person killed, every drop of blood.

A pale, strong hand gripped his, and Ludwig realized he was shaking. "It'll be okay, Lud," a voice murmured softly in his ear.
Ludwig hated to show weakness, but the nation sitting beside him had raised him and had seen everything, both the good and the bad. He was the one Ludwig turned to when he needed to take all of the emotions he suppressed, the emotions that were eating him up from the inside out, and just let them go. They were, after all, brothers.

Most people only ever saw the obnoxious facade that Gilbert used as a mask. He had to- he didn't dare let anyone close. He had been hurt too many times. The only person the Prussian was himself around was Ludwig, and that was a mutual give and take. But they were brothers, and neither could truly hide himself around the other.

The door in front of them opened, and Alfred stuck his head out, looking sheepish. "You dudes can come in now," he muttered, opting to brush nonexistent lint off his dark grey suit jacket rather than make eye contact with either brother. Ludwig's heart sank. This couldn't be good, not if the always cheerful American was acting like this.

They entered the room and Alfred gestured at the two empty seats, one between Francis and Ivan, the other between Arthur and himself. "Sit, please."

Both brothers sat, not wanting to cause any more trouble.
The meeting ran and ran, with the Allied nations explaining things they had decided. Finally, Arthur said, "We have five goals for the occupation of Germany, de-"

"What?" Ludwig and Gilbert spoke in tandem, both thinking they had missed something.

"Occupation?" Gilbert asked, eyes wide.

"Of Germany," Ludwig repeated after Arthur, furious. He had expected a harsh punishment, much like that he had received after the first World War, but had never even imagined that they would take his country away from him.

"Yes, I'll get to that in a moment." Arthur looked irritated at the interruption, and so both brothers shut up. "As I was saying, our goals-or, well, mine and Alfred's and Francis'-are demilitarization, denazification, democratization, decentralization, and decartelization."

Ludwig unconsciously wrote the five goals down, but he was focused on something else Arthur had said. "Only three of you have those goals. What about Ivan?"

Francis took over. "Germany is going to be divided into two parts. The smaller East Germany, Gilbert-" he shot a glance at the nation who was one of his best friends "-and West Germany, which will be represented by you, Ludwig."

"Arthur, Francis, and I divided West Germany into three occupation zones, one for each of us," Alfred continued from Francis. "East Germany goes to the Soviet Union."

Ivan grinned at Gilbert, who gulped, then announced, "I...don't particularly want to go to the Soviet Union…"

"Oh, you stay in East Germany. But East Germany becomes part of the Soviet Union. You become one with me, da?" Ivan answered, still grinning.

Gilbert looked sick. "Lud...help…"

Ludwig wanted desperately to help his brother, but knew full well there was nothing he could do. After the bloodshed and the horror they had all lived through in the war, he knew he needed to cooperate entirely. He couldn't give the Allies any more reasons to be mad at him. "I can't," he murmured, the look on Gilbert's face at his answer tearing his heart in two. "But, Gil… Ich liebe dich, bruder."

Ludwig would only remember the rest of that day in flashes.

Signing the papers that said he agreed to the Allies' conditions-effectively signing away his country.

Watching Gilbert led away, Gilbird chirping softly on top of his head.

The look of terror the albino shot over his shoulder at Ludwig.

Being told that, for the time being, he was only allowed contact with the three nations who were taking over his country-he had a brief flash of worry for Feliciano, unsure how the somewhat ditzy Italian would cope on his own.

Finding out that while both he and Gilbert would be living in Berlin, they would be forbidden contact.

Alfred mentioning that Berlin was to be divided, just as Germany was.

Being escorted back to his Berlin apartment by Alfred, Arthur, and Francis.

The heightened security on his apartment.

Breaking down in tears once the Allies left.

It was the second month of his house arrest, and Ludwig was strangely starved for company. He had always been an independent, solitary nation- he hadn't needed people around him before. He supposed that he had grown accustomed to being with others during the time he had been unable to get rid of Feliciano.

But Arthur and Francis had to clean up their own countries-one from German occupation, the other from keeping out the Germans- and tensions were rising between Alfred and Ivan- he had heard the term 'Cold War'- and none of the three had the time to be there to keep a lonely German company.

Nearly 710 miles away sat someone who would have gladly kept Ludwig company. But the borders of Germany were closed and so he was not allowed to enter the country , so he sat and stared at the water, which, with the reflection of the sky, was nearly the same color as Ludwig's eyes.

Just across the city was another who wished to be with Ludwig. Or anywhere, really. Anywhere other than where he was. It had only been two months, but the Soviet occupation was taking its toll on Gilbert. His red eyes no longer shone with mischief, and he had lost both several pounds and his easy smile. He wondered idly if Ivan was trying to kill him, and resolved to survive, if for no other reason than to spite the Russian.

It was another month before Arthur came to visit Ludwig, becoming, in doing so, the first of the Allies, those that remain, that Ludwig has seen seen since the division of his country.
Arthur tried to hide it, but Ludwig was a military man. He had been trained his whole life to notice everything, and so he noticed the raw skin of Arthur's hands.

"What happened?" he asked, gesturing to the red, broken skin.

Arthur looked down. Ludwig knew what that meant- it was something related to the war. "I was helping clean up from bombings. Moving stones and bricks. It took a toll on my hands." He shrugged. "It's no big deal."

Ludwig sighed. The Luftwaffe, his air force, had been responsible for the bombings. And so, indirectly, he was responsible for Arthur's hands. The war was over, but he was still hurting the Allies. He would never redeem himself.

Notes

The Potsdam Conference was a meeting held in Potsdam, Germany, from July 17th to August 2nd, 1945, between Joseph Stalin, Winston Churchill (who was replaced on July 26th by Clement Attlee), and Harry Truman. The point of the meeting was to negotiate terms for the end of World War Two. The French, despite being one of the countries a section of Germany went to, did not attend. Attendance at the conference was by invitation only, and France was not invited. Other countries not invited include, but are not limited to, Italy, Spain, Sweden, and Norway. Apparently the US thought that if, given the choice, those countries would go Communist (interestingly, they were afraid of this, but invited Russia, the Communist country…)

The Allies divided West Germany into three occupation zones-France in the southwest, Britain in the northwest, and the US in the south. East Germany was Soviet territory.

It is 707.8 miles, roughly, from Berlin to Venice.