Ch. 1:

"Feliciano, dinner!"

Feliciano looked up, distracted, from where he sat under his favorite shady tree, drawing. Grandpa Roma was standing on the porch of their two story houses, squinting through the afternoon light toward his grandson. "Come on inside, it's your favorite!"

Immediately Feliciano broke into a huge grin and gathered up his art supplies, "Coming! I'm coming, I'm coming!" In this family favorite was another word for pasta.

Feliciano raced down the hill toward his house, away from the Vargas vineyard that his family owned. When Feliciano and his older twin brother Lovino were babies their mother passed away and they were taken to their grandfather to take care of them. Roma had loved and cherished his grandsons so much that the two boys had never felt too sad that their mother who they had never got to know passed away, or that their father had ran away from his responsibilities. Feliciano didn't care about that because he loved living here with his grandfather and brother. And he especially loved the Vargas vineyard, Grandpa Roma owned one of the largest vineyards in Italy, not to mention one of the famous, there wasn't a restaurant in Italy that didn't serve homemade Vargas wine and Roma was nearly as proud of it as he was of his grandchildren. However, there was definitely one dark cloud in Roma's blue sky.

"What were you doing," Roma asked with a smile as Feliciano reached his side, panting.

"Drawing," Feliciano showed the half-finished picture to his grandfather. Roma studied it with interest and pride, "You're drawing the vineyard?"

"Vee, you can see all of it from up on that hill," Feliciano explained happily, taking the picture and bouncing into the house, "Tomorrow I'll finish it."

"You're such a talented artist, Feli," Roma complimented as he walked with his grandson, "Wouldn't you want to go to school with Lovi?"

Lovino had recently passed an exam to go to an impressive college in the city miles away from the nearby town. He would only be able to visit his brother and grandfather every other weekend. Feliciano was sad that his brother would be leaving soon but he was also incredibly proud, he had always felt Lovino wasn't as happy here as he should be. Even though he loved his family dearly there had always been a part of Lovino who wanted to spread his wings and fly.

Feliciano smiled, "No I'm okay, and I just like art as a hobby. Besides I couldn't go to all those boring lessons and not see you every day." Feliciano shuddered, "That would be awful."

Roma smiled warmly at his grandson; despite his words he didn't want Feliciano to leave either. It was bad enough having one grandson begging to leave.

Speaking of which Lovino was already at the kitchen table, pouring over the textbooks the school had sent him. He didn't even look up when the two entered.

Roma crossed his arms, "Lovino, how many times have I told you that dinner time is family time?"

"Every day since I was two," Lovino replied, still not looking up.

"Then it's about time to get that through your thick-head. Nothing but food on the table during dinner," he shot a warning glance at Feliciano who had just placed his art supplies on the table. Feliciano quickly placed them on the kitchen counter instead before racing to the hot pot of pasta, practically drooling.

Lovino sighed with exasperation but shut the text book and put it with Feliciano's sketchbook and pencils, "I need to get a head start before school starts."

"You still have one more day and you're spending it with your family," Roma said in a no nonsense tone as Feliciano served the pasta.

Despite Lovino's annoyance as dinner progressed the three started talking easily as they always did. That was one thing that would never change, Feliciano knew with deep confidence. His family would always be close; they would always be able to talk.

Eventually, as always, talk led to the vineyard.

"It's been a bit of a tough harvest, hasn't it," Roma admitted sourly, "What with these damn dry spells."

"Look on the bright side, Grandpa," Lovino smirked was snarky, "At least the Beilschmidts are having the same problems."

Roma grinned almost evilly along with his grandson, "That's the only good thing about dry spells my boy, that's the only good thing."

Feliciano didn't comment. The Beilschmidts owned a vineyard that was right next to the Vargas vineyard; they even had a stone wall that separated the two vineyards at the very back. The owner of that vineyard, an Alaric, was Grandpa Roma's worst enemy, word around the workers was that the two had once been best friends but a falling out had led them to despise each other, and Feliciano was too scared to ask for details. But the two vineyards had always had a rivalry with each other, while the Vargas wine was sold all over Italy, the Beilschmidt wine was always getting shipped to countries like France and Great Britain, Feliciano had even heard once that it got shipped to America. But Feliciano firmly believed the Vargas wine was the best (he wasn't allowed to try any other wine), however he didn't see the need to hate each other, he never liked angry people, or things that got people angry. And Grandpa Roma was always fuming about Alaric; Feliciano sometimes wished they could just get alone with the Beilschmidts. But at the same time he was terrified too, he remembered when he was still practically a toddler, he and Lovino had hid inside while Grandpa Roma and Alaric had a talk with the sheriff, apparently Alaric's eldest grandson had got into a brawl with one of Roma's workers.

Alaric had been as big as Grandpa (which to Feliciano was huge) with long silver blond hair and menacing eyes, even after they resolved the issue (which was just the sheriff telling them to discipline their children and workers) Feliciano had been too scared to go outside that day, even after Alaric left.

Then there was that thing that happened almost a year ago, he and Lovino had taken a shipment of wine to town to their local seller who sold it for them. Afterwards the two had met up with an old family friend, Elizabeta. A pretty Hungarian girl whose parents had been good friends with Roma and who treated Feliciano and Lovino as little brothers, she had taken them to a nearby pub to relax.

Feliciano had been enjoying himself, when the bartender asked about his grandfather he had gotten loud and expressive, telling him about the vineyard and the bird nest they had found in the shed. Then quite suddenly someone had poured what Feliciano had guessed as beer onto his head. He had looked up surprised and stuttering to see a grinning albino boy glaring down at him, a blond man with stubble and a man that looked like he was Spanish, laughing at the scene.

Feliciano had almost started to cry at the unexpected display of cruelty, but then Lovino and Elizabeta had lunged at the albino, people were able to hold them back but not before Elizabeta had landed a solid punch on the albino's jaw.

The bartender, in a fury, told the albino and his friends to leave before telling Feliciano and Lovino in a much kinder tone that they should probably do the same. One the way home as Feliciano used an old towel to dry his hair Lovino had angrily explained that that had been Alaric's eldest grandson, Gilbert. Lovino had wanted to tell Grandpa Roma but Feliciano had begged him not to. If Grandpa found out he'd try to kill Gilbert and Alaric, and Feliciano did not want his grandpa to go to prison for murder.

So Feliciano had accepted that the Beilschmidts were mean people, but a part of him still believed this whole rivalry was silly.

"Something wrong, Feli," Roma looked at his grandson with slight concern, "You've been awfully quiet."

Feliciano quickly shook his head and ate some more pasta, "No," he said through bites, "I'm fine."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Lovino said with disapproval. "Were you even listening to what Grandpa was saying?'

By the blank stare Feliciano gave his brother and grandfather, the answer was obvious. He swallowed and muttered quietly, "I'm sorry."

Both Roman and Lovino sighed but Roma sounded less exasperated than his grandson, "Don't worry about it, I was just saying I'll need you boys to help with the harvest picking tomorrow. Two of my workers, Alfonso and Flavio caught the flu."

Feliciano made a sound of sympathy, "Oh no, I hope the get to feeling better. I remember when I got that stomach virus from eating too much candy, remember that Grandpa? Vee, it was awful I wanted to throw up and that's the worst, so I definitely understand what they're going through. Don't worry; we'll pick all the grapes in the entire vineyard!" He smiled at his brother, "Right, Lovi!"

"You know, brother, sometimes I think I'll miss your endless chatter," Lovino said, "But then I hear you talk and I think…nope."

Roma swatted Lovino on the head but Feliciano just laughed; he loved his brother too much to ever take his insults seriously.

Meanwhile, across the Vargas vineyard, at the Beilschmidt's home, Alaric Beilschmidt was having his own difficulties with his eldest grandchild.

"I don't care if you have a hangover tomorrow," Alaric snapped, "You're going to help with the harvest, you never help any other time so you're going to help now."

"You're so cruel, old man," a voice moaned, hiding under a pile of blankets on the couch, "Here your favorite grandson is moaning and rolling in agony and all you can think about are those stupid grapes."

"Gilbert, it's not my fault you get wasted on our wine every single day," Alaric growled, "Tomorrow you're going to help make the wine you drink like water or this old man's going to kick your ass."

In the kitchen Alaric's younger grandson, Ludwig, sat quietly, reading a book. He had become used to Alaric and Gilbert's little spats years ago. After their parents had passed away in a car crash the two had come to live with Alaric whom they had never met. Ludwig, being quieter and more obedient than his brother, had accepted this without as much as a blink. But Gilbert hadn't, being no older than twelve he had been sure he could take care of them both by himself and had even tried to run away a few times. Until one night when Gilbert had broken his arm trying to hide in a tree, after that Alaric has sat them both down, told them how much he had loved their parents and how sad he was that they were gone and that he had no idea how to raise two boys, and how Gilbert and Ludwig were just like their parents. He had then took them into his arms as he had cried, Ludwig had immediately latched his arms onto the man, not realizing how much he needed that hug until he had received it. It had taken stubborn Gilbert a few moments to realize he needed it too and returned the hug, and they had all cried.

After that their relationship improved, they still argued of course but underneath it was a tight string of love and blood that held them together. Then not long after their coming together, when Ludwig was twelve, Alaric declared that he had bought a vineyard in Italy and had moved out of Germany to Italy and they had been here ever since.

Life of harvesting and doing farm work had molded Ludwig into a large, muscular young man even though he had only just reached his twenties, while Gilbert was muscular he wasn't as built or tall as Ludwig and many believed him to be the younger brother which annoyed the albino to no end.

"Ludwig," Alaric walked in, pinching the bridge of his nose as Gilbert continued to complain in the living room. "Could you please make me some coffee?"

With a simple nod Ludwig got up and fixed three cups of coffee, after handing his grandfather one he headed into the living room.

"Gilbert," he snapped, making the shape under the blankets flinch.

"Don't yell at me," Gilbert moaned, sounding almost close to tears.

Ludwig pulled back the covers and Gilbert hissed as the light touched his pale skin.

"I made you some coffee," Ludwig replied, handing his brother the cup.

Eyes sparkling, Gilbert took a large gulp of it, "Bless you; West."

Ludwig nodded, almost smiling at the old nickname Gilbert had come up with years ago, something about Ludwig being made in the west of Germany…

"What would I do without you," Alaric wondered aloud, as Ludwig joined him back in the kitchen, taking his own sip of coffee.

"You're the anchor to this crazy, drunken ship," Alaric smiled almost sarcastically; "I would've gone bald from stress if you were just like your brother growing up."

Ludwig smiled softly, "He just likes the attention; he misses his friends."

A few weeks ago Gilbert had come home a sobbing mess, crying about how his Spanish friend Antonio was going to school to get a proper education and wouldn't have time to hang out anymore. This happened around the same time his French friend Francis had apparently fallen in love with a Canadian and moved to America. Ludwig still wasn't sure if he had believed that or not. Antonio and Francis had been around Ludwig for most of his childhood and he didn't believe they were capable of getting a proper education or falling in love. But he tried not to judge.

"Maybe he should take a leaf from their book and go to school, or meet a nice girl and give me a bunch of great grandchildren who would be glad to show their love and help out on the vineyard." From the living room they heard Gilbert make a gagging noise and they rolled their eyes.

"What about you Ludwig," Alaric turned his eyes that would appear blue or green depending on his mood, studied Ludwig. "You don't want to go out and get an education or find your soul mate?"

"No," Ludwig shook his head, "You gave us a good education all on your own." Which was true, Alaric had not only taught them how to work the vineyard but he made sure they had excellent reading, writing, science, and math skills. Ludwig didn't want to go to a place where a snobby city person would tell him things he probably already knew.

Ludwig, while a believer in love, didn't find a quest to find your soul mate all that important, if anything it sounded like a waste of time. Besides, Gilbert had been looking for his since the day he hit puberty, he was twenty five now and still hadn't found her…

"Do you feel like helping out tomorrow with the harvest," Alaric asked, almost apologetically. "I know you help up so much already, but that little bastard in there will blow a fuse if he has to work and you don't."

"I heard that," Gilbert yelled out then promptly made a painful noise, "I heard that," he repeated in a much quieter whisper.

"Don't make me slam a door," Alaric called out loudly and Gilbert let out a cry.

"Of course I'll help," Ludwig answered with a small smile; he'd do absolutely anything for his grandfather.