A/N: I felt the need to write this, because sometimes people forget Feliciano's age and history.
Ludwig had been scolding him again, hung up as ever over Feliciano's blatant refusal to comply with his training regimen.
It was a hot summer day, the sound of soldiers running their drills off in the distance, but the two nations were isolated on their own private training grounds, away from the humans being forced to train in the stifling heat. Feliciano had outright refused today, it was far too hot, and Ludwig was getting more frustrated by the second.
As for the training, Feliciano didn't see the point in it, honestly. Ludwig had seen him run, Ludwig had seen him fight, Ludwig had seen him fire with the precision of a sniper, Ludwig had seen Feliciano pushed to the brink on the bloody screaming hell of a battlefield as he dragged bodies of his comrades to safety.
So what was the point of all this training?
Feliciano, as small as he may seem to the bulky man, did not need his training.
What was it, that made him so insistent?
Was it Ludwig's country influencing him? That need for control, discipline, perfect soldiers weaving its way into his mind despite how much the other man detested what was happening in this twisted war of theirs? Or was it just the man inside him, that bit of humanity, trying to assert control for the sake of keeping himself a little sane, a little stable, trying to ignore once more the chaos of the world winding around him like a tornado?
"Why is it, that whenever I ask you to do something, you're entirely useless?"
Either way, Feliciano was tired of being scolded and treated like his worth was only his strength in a fight, and the little smile he'd been keeping up for Ludwig's sake fell.
His lips turned to a thin line, his bright eyes turned darker and more intense, eyelids lowering ever-so-slightly as he composed himself in careful, quiet, cold steel.
Feliciano tilted his head just a fraction to the right, and Ludwig's breath caught in his throat.
This… Feliciano was…
"Feliciano?"
Feliciano's voice was low.
"Sit down, Ludwig."
"What?"
"I said, sit down."
Feliciano did not like being violent. He did not like war, he did not like fighting and he did not like this militaristic training, this idea that one had to be nothing but a weapon in order to be useful.
Feliciano liked Ludwig, really. He was strong, dependable, an excellent baker with an odd personality, and he loved dogs and appreciated beauty where he saw it, even if he wasn't too good with expressing himself.
But most notably, Ludwig was young.
So very, very young.
Feliciano would estimate two centuries at the oldest, given the circumstances, but he personally would give a more accurate age of a single century, maybe even less. The man's birth was shrouded in mystery and confused by wars, but Feliciano knew Germany was young.
So he'd humored him, to help him along. He much preferred to be friendly, and bright, and cheerful. Feliciano preferred getting to be relaxed and laid-back, peaceful over martial. He was fine goofing off and playing, trying to get Ludwig to let loose and calm himself as well, trying to convince the stern man to relax the way he did. He wanted to try and guide him off the warpath and towards discovering better things in life than what the man seemed to be born to do: follow orders, and fight.
And it worked, sometimes, but other times, Ludwig would stand firm and Feliciano would sulk or pout in that childish way of his, but leave Ludwig to his choices. Today, however, Ludwig just pushed the wrong buttons, and was trying to push that militaristic lifestyle on him again, right as this war truly was going to hell.
Oh, how Feliciano loathed war.
"Excuse me?" Ludwig looked taken aback, stunned, confused to see his usually affectionate and happy-go-lucky friend suddenly so serious.
"I said, sit down."
With that, Feliciano struck Ludwig quick, hard, jabbing him with harsh punches in a few precise places that suddenly made Ludwig's breath leave him as pain ran through his sides and hips and made him collapse to his knees. If Ludwig valued strength and military usefulness, then Feliciano would be sure to get his attention and keep it with that little display.
"F-Feliciano- how dare you go against your commanding officer-"
"When did we decide that you were in charge, Ludwig?" Feliciano interrupted him with even words and a stony face, and Ludwig sputtered indignantly.
"Of course I am, I-"
"Ludwig. How old are you?"
Ludwig couldn't respond, or rather, he chose not to. His expression shifted from that of shock to that of indignation. What kind of question was that? Of course he knew how old he was! Feliciano expected him to answer such a childish question!?
"Good, you think that's a silly question, don't you?" Feliciano murmured next, before bending down and placing his fingers under Ludwig's chin to make sure he was making eye contact. "Now, answer this question, Lu-di," Feliciano added next, drawing out the playful petname he'd given to the man. "Do you know how old I am?"
Ludwig's expression changed yet again, and this time, the man caught his breath and faltered, although his gaze was still hard and a bit angry. Oh, but he was starting to get it now, and even that anger was starting to fade into something else hard to describe.
"I have seen two millennia go by, Ludwig," Feliciano said firmly, his voice strong but quiet, vehemence in every word. "I have seen wars and blood and battles like you couldn't even imagine, I have seen the rise and fall of nations and empires, and I have been torn to pieces by powers greater than me and fought like a demon from hell to put myself back together, and you have the audacity to think you can tell me to become stronger?"
Feliciano's expression was calm as ever, despite the venom in his words, and he pressed a boot to Ludwig's chest and firmly pushed him down to lie on the earth they'd been trying to train on just minutes before. He applied just enough pressure to keep him down, but not to hurt him. That wasn't his intent, no, not to hurt him.
Just to remind him.
"I was fighting wars and winning battles and killing men before a unified Germany was even a germ of an idea- and you think you can give me orders? I have had nearly every force imaginable try to control me and claim what I inherited from my grandfather, and when that wasn't enough, soon they tried to kill me outright! But I won, I fought and slaughtered and ripped my freedom from the hands of those pinning me down and I am standing here on my own two feet by the blood I shed with my own hands!"
Feliciano's voice was of strained calm, warning of a tidal wave threatening to rise and crash down all over again and swallow him up. His expression showed no lack of fury and frustration with the man he had pinned beneath him.
"Why now? Why do you get like this now?" Ludwig asked, gritting his teeth in frustration of his own.
"Oh, Ludi. Don't be silly, you've seen me like this plenty, when it matters most. I don't like having to be like this, don't you get it?" Feliciano said, fists clenching. "I've seen wars murder the people I love most and rip them from me, I've seen war convince me to murder my own kin in cold blood- oh, you didn't know that, did you? Dispiace, I should've told you that later," he hissed softly through his teeth, fake apologies slipping off his tongue. "I despise war, Ludwig. I think it's a waste of everything precious in this world. Sometimes, maybe, war is necessary, but I still hate it. I don't want to live in a world where all there is to live for is to fight again, to wage another war, another battle, to create more violence just to see more of my children and loved ones perish!"
Ludwig felt the boot on his chest pressing down a little harder than before and it was constricting his breath, so his hand shot up to wrap a vice grip over Feliciano's ankle, twisting it and pulling it off him before Feliciano inadvertently ended up suffocating him.
Feliciano had to admit that Ludwig was strong, and he should've seen Ludwig's little trick coming. But he regained a position of control, landing right on the German's stomach and pinning his wrists down, keeping his hips and main weight right on the man's stomach as a sturdy place to rest and keep Ludwig down until he was quite finished.
He smiled apologetically, although this time, it seemed genuine. "Dispiace, I didn't realize I was stepping too hard," he chirped, before the smile slowly faded, and he hummed again, looking serious and contemplative as he looked Ludwig over.
Ludwig was stunned. To see a glimpse of the Feliciano he recognized, that smile, amidst that storm of power and fury lurking under Venetian waters- it had left him honestly speechless, and it took him a while to formulate a reply. "You aren't like this- so why show me this part of you now? Why bother even showing me that kind part of you in the first place, why not just show me that dark side of you from the start?!"
And Feliciano laughed a little, catching Ludwig completely off guard as the Italian rested a gentle hand on his cheek and regarded him with a bittersweet look.
"Oh, Ludi. You're so young… I guess I've been coddling you too much, si?"
There was a silence, and Ludwig let Feliciano's words sink in as the other man seemed to patiently wait for him to understand.
"Don't let them turn you into just another war machine, Ludi," Feliciano finally murmured, seeming to be settling down into the calm. "I want you to be better than that."
After all, he liked Ludwig.
Ludwig let go of Feliciano's ankle, suddenly realizing that he was still gripping it, realizing that it was swelling in his hand- he'd actually twisted the limb, but Feliciano didn't seem to care. It'd heal in a day or so, anyway- and Ludwig felt it click. Feliciano must have felt such worse pain, suffered through healing from much worse wounds and losses in that long, long life.
Italia Veneziano was so terribly old.
How could he have overlooked that simple fact? To think he had considered Feliciano an honest simpleton… Someone he could just order around like a child! Ludwig gritted his teeth again, feeling a futile sort of anger simmering inside him. He'd made yet another miscalculation- the one he'd considered a best friend had gotten the best of him, after all.
He'd never been in control from day one.
As it dawned, the understanding showed on Ludwig's face.
And Feliciano smiled.