CHAPTER 1 (A/N): This is my first fic, I hope you enjoy~
Running his hands through his hair to apply hair gel for the billionth time, Ludwig looks scornfully at himself in the mirror. What have I turned into? The corners of his mouth turn downward in disgust. Verdammt, I should never have agreed to make Hitler the leader of my country...He tells himself yet again. His muscles are not as well defined, his ribs are more prominent, and the angles on his face more pronounced. Giving himself one last bitter glance, he makes his way over to his closet, carefully picking out his green uniform. Fully aware of his situation, he still holds his head up high as he exits his bedroom, bravely entering the main area of the house, brushing past his currently hungover brother, Gilbert, and finally finding his destination in Hitler's office. He quietly knocks on the door, and enters.
"Ludwig," Hitler greets him with a curt nod. Ludwig hides a scowl, outstretching his arm in front of his face in the signature Nazi tradition. Oh, how he hated it, being forced into obedient silence in front of this evil man. The pure hatred and resentment boiled deep within his belly. He knew not to speak out though, at least not yet. If he did, it would most definitely end him up in the deepest, darkest prison his own country, his own being, possessed. So he just stood there, awaiting orders. "I want you to do an important task for me, Ludwig," Hitler purrs, looking deep into Ludwig's blue eyes. He tries not to grimace. "I need you to exterminate the Jews. Kill them all. Form concentration camps, hire a group of our highest Nazi advocates, and put them in charge. They need to be killed, in the name of God and all His Glory," Hitler continues sardonically, his voice menacing. "They are impurities to the way of life here. Germany is not perfect with them in existence..." Ludwig tunes out. He cannot bear to listen to more. Killing his own people? Did Hitler know how badly that would effect the economy? Even more so on his own body? He could be hospitalized for who knows how long. How dare he consider such a thing. No matter who somebody was, they did not deserve to die because of their faith; Hitler was being a hypocrite-his own mother is Jewish. Narrowing his eyes, he quite distastefully and ungraciously nodded and stalked out. He cannot disobey orders. The leader of his country is his own personal dictator, since he is the country of Germany within itself. Racking his brain for loopholes, Ludwig finds nothing. Nothing. He curses himself over and over, for he will have to go to Ivan, and ally with him. The battle plan is already forming within his head, and he knows he will end up betraying Ivan for his own selfish sake. No, Hitler's selfish sake. His only escape would be to find Feliciano, who seems to be the only friend on his side right now. Sighing, he recalls how the dense brunette country would always keep him on his toes. Yet, he would always be happy next to the prattling country, loving everything about the damn man. No, he is another male, he cannot come out as homosexual to Hitler. Not now, not ever. That will indefinitely get him tortured for the rest of his pitiful existence, since killing an immortal country is out of the question.
Without thinking, he finds himself at the bubbly Italian's doorstep. Before he can turn around, Feliciano opens the door and embraces him.
"Germany~" he coos. "I haven't seen you in such a long time~! Oh, why are you so thin? Would you like some pasta?" he takes a step back, examining Ludwig, noticing a difference in the German's appearance. Ludwig can't help but crack a smile, for it was all he could do not to completely step out of character and glomp the man. "Ja, I guess that would be nice..." He trails off, stepping into the Italian's very warm, welcoming home. Feliciano wastes no time skipping into the kitchen, and prepping to make noodles. Ludwig can hear him quietly humming from his place on the living room sofa, and takes a much needed moment to relax his tense, weakened muscles. Sighing, he closes his eyes, and slips into unconsciousness.
It was not until Ludwig awakened that he realized how exhausted he had been. He had not slept well for months, and he actually woke up feeling quite refreshed and recuperated, in a sense. Feliciano quietly shuffles into the living room and places himself next to Ludwig.
"You were asleep when I finished making the pasta, so if you want some now, I can warm it up for you~" Feliciano tells him, his eyes wide with worry. "I've never seen you this tired...Are you sure you're okay?" He pouts, nuzzling against Ludwig. He sighs, and strokes the Italian's hair soothingly, making sure to avoid his sensitive ahoge.
"Ja, I'm alright. Please, don't worry about me, I'm just...going through some difficulties with my leader, that's all," he replies, hoping his wary statement would convince him. He wasn't necessarily lying, for it was true. Just not the entire reason for his vague reply. Feliciano shifts his head so his big brown orbs meet Ludwig's piercing blue ones. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, almost like he knew the German wasn't telling him everything. Feliciano wraps his arms gingerly around Ludwig's waist, and buries his face into his chest, sighing comfortably. Ludwig returns the hug, and they stay like that for a moment longer, his head on the Italian's. "Feliciano?" Ludwig asks, almost a bit nervously.
"Si, Germany~?" comes a muffled reply.
"Would you..."...love me? He can't finish like that, so with his face burning, he quickly evades with, "...ally with me? I think we would make a great team against England and the other allies, so-" Feliciano's wide smile cuts him off.
"Of course, Germany~" he coos. "Anything for you~" Ludwig allows himself to smile yet again, for he can't help himself when he's with the stupid Italian. Gott, why do I have to love him so much, when I know I can't be with him? He inwardly scowls at himself. Suddenly, his butt pocket vibrates. He quickly takes the source of the movement, his phone, out of his pocket, and flips it open. One new text message from: Hitler. It reads. He unwraps his other arm from Feliciano, and reads it.
"Ludwig, I understand you were not in Germany last night. The reason must be exceptionally good, because you have not carried out the task I personally gave you. You are ordered to return at once, and ally with Ivan immediately. If you don't, the consequences given will make you wish you weren't put into this damn world. -Hitler". Shit, he knew he had overslept, and he could not waste any more time. He hastily said his goodbyes to Feliciano, and rushed out the door. Upon flinging the door open to his own house, he comes face-to-face with Hitler himself.
"Sir, I deeply apologize for making you wait. I was..." desperately trying to protect Italy, he continues with, "allying with Italy. I hear they have an excellent army, and it will make us look good against the Allies." Hitler narrows his eyes, and raises his head defiantly.
"I had not told you to ally with them."
"I know, sir, I thought they would come in handy when we betray the USSR." Ludwig responds, desperately trying to hold on to his ties with Feliciano. Hitler gives him an unreadable look, and finally nods curtly.
"I suppose you're right. Next time, consult me before you make a move like that. Is that understood?" he growls. Ludwig nods hastily, saluting him. "Good. Now go to the Ivan and ally with him. Now."
He quickly makes his way out of his house again, and proceeds to take the road that will lead him to the creepy Russian. Sighing, he slows his pace as he is well away from his damned house. I can no longer do what I feel is right for my country. I cannot even spend any time with Feliciano... Suddenly he cannot contain himself any more. The crushing reality almost literally hits him in the face, and he crumples to the ground and sobs violently. The last time he had cried was when he was a child, when his only worries were when to get home in time for supper. He covers his face with his hands, sobs now racking his body, and hiccuping like a lost child. He knew he was lost, not physically, but mentally; he had no idea what to do. He dragged his precious Italy into this whole shitty mess, and the possibility of hurting the kind-hearted man was significantly higher. Some rustling behind him made him bolt back to his feet, but it was no use looking intimidating; the tears were still flowing steadily. Much to his surprise, Italy walks out, and immediately embraces him. Not knowing what else to do, he hopelessly buries his face in his neck and sobs into it, stripping him of whatever dignity he had left.
"Shh, shh~" Feliciano consoles him. "Do not fret, Germany. I am here, I will help you. Whatever has been bothering you, you must tell me, please. I want to help." Ludwig's poor, damaged heart nearly breaks, for he knows if he tells him, he could get in deep trouble. But he cannot hold himself back, for words are spewing out of his mouth.
"Oh, Italy...Italy..." he murmurs. "My country is falling apart. Hitler has already started to murder a great percentage of my population en mass, and if it continues, I may disappear as a country..." his voice shaking, he tightens his desperate grip on poor Feliciano, but the Italian only warmly does the same. "I know this is wrong, Feli, I know I cannot say this without getting punished, but I need you to know. I need you to know...Ich liebe dich..." he breathes, knowing he could get rejected. Knowing the Italian could break his ties with him at any given moment.
But there is only love offered in the Italian's eyes.
"It's okay,bello, I will help you to the best of my abilities. Ti amo. Ti amo..." Feliciano gently kisses Ludwig on the nose, and for the first time in months, he feels hope.