Feliciana's eyes explored the battlefield, tracing over the corpses of dead soldiers and the twisting bodies of the wounded and dying. In the distance, she heard the rattle of a machine gun and screams, half of rage and half of fear, a practical symphony with those closer to her, mostly dead silent with a few weak moans mingled in. When her eyes panned over the stricken, something caught her eye. A head of blonde hair, lying next to an upturned helmet that had rolled off.
Feliciana's breath stopped, trapping inside the smoky air. Could it be? She moved forwards, stepping over bodies, to confirm her suspicions. Oh god. His eyes, his eyes. Usually lit from the inside with a sort of inner fire, they had lost their life, their glimmer. They used to be able to express a smile, or anger, better than his mouth ever could. Now all they held was a dull blue color, staring into the heavens. He lay in a slowly growing puddle of blood, and his blonde hair, usually meticulously clean, was becoming saturated in red. His legs were twisted in unnatural angles, and one arm lay next to a gun, just out of reach. His chest was mangled, pockmarked with bullet wounds, about four. Worst of all, a single, lone bullet, so far from the rest, imbedded into his forehead. "Oh, god, Ludwig," Feliciana breathed out.
Feliciana woke up. Immediately she jolted upright and scanned her surroundings, the product of her military training. She let out a loud breath, one that she didn't even realize she was holding. The nightmares were getting worse. Even so, she felt compelled to just… check. She slid out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. She padded out of her room, and sneaked through the hallway, making her way to her objective in mind. It was pitch dark, save for the few bars of moonlight that lay across the floor, after struggling through the curtains in the hall. She turned left and, ah, there it was. She opened the door just a crack and pressed her eye against it. He was alright. Ludwig lay on his side, breathing in a steady rhythm as he slept, his back facing Feliciana. He was fine. Safe. Really, it was silly of her to think that he could be in any danger, here, safe in his own house. But, still, the nightmares scared her so. She just needed to… check. Just to reassure herself. Feliciana returned to her room, and curled into a ball on her bed, fighting off suspicions.
Blood poured down his face. Deep cuts were ripped across his forehead, and they were bleeding profusely. His breath came out in short, jagged breaths, like he was fighting for every one. Burn marks covered his body, some looking like they were from cigarettes, others from red hot bars of metal. There were dark red marks and bruises were a rope tied his wrists together. Welts were on his shoulders, and deep gashes on his arms and legs. Another rope burn was twisted around his neck. Feliciana didn't know what was worse, Ludwig being dead, or him being in this tortured state. Suddenly, like a viper striking, a black flash of a whip met with Ludwig's back. A hoarse, animal scream tore from his lips. Another crack of the whip, another scream. It repeated over and over, a horrible pattern. A snap, a scream, a snap, a scream.
"Feliciana! I am telling you for the last time! Get up and be ready for training in the next twenty minutes! Go!"
A worried "Ve" escaped Feliciana's lips as she lifted her head and saw a very cross Ludwig standing at the foot of her bed.
"Aha! So you're awake!", Ludwig ripped the warm covers off of Feliciana's curled up body, exposing her to the cold morning.
Feliciana immediately jumped up, ambushing Ludwig with a tight hug saying, "Good morning, Ludwig!"
Ludwig almost immediately became a rigid steel figure under her arms, obviously not comfortable with the sudden closeness.
Feliciana's worries about her last night's nightmares were washing away in the morning sun. She had been so worried about Ludwig! That is, until Ludwig said in a voice that promised more worries, "Please get off me and be ready for training in twenty minutes."