A little note before starting: DDR's story...As a fairy tale.

Even though this is going to be a highly romanced view of the after WWII history, I'll work to make it as historically accurate as possible. I will certainly skip little details, mostly because I don't want this fic to be a simple copy of what you can read in your History books.

This story contains Prussia/Russia, but it won't be a love story between these two. I thought you might want to be warned.

1 Prequel

They came from the West, he came from the East. A mouth curved in irrepressible disgust at the sight of the tall man who's smile still looked far too so innocent even though his long coat was marred with dry and fresh blood. Similarly soiled were his hands and boots, Russia faced his allies.

-" You made it further than we thought" America forced his voice to be neutral as he locked eyes with Russia. He didn't know what the Russian army had done in Berlin yet. He would probably have emptied his stomach if he'd known.

Next to him, England. The brit stared at Ivan with the same uncomfortable feeling in the guts: All about the Russian nation; his cocky smile and the smell of blood that impregnated the air around him, made Arthur clench his teeth.

-" I do not have to remind you about our agreements, da?" Russia stroked the pipe in his hand like he would have a pet or a child.

Something passed in America's eyes and he suddenly had a strange impression, one that promised a complicated future.

-" I have not forgotten. You'll be occupying the East part of the territory...Up to this point"

The allies had agreed to split the defeated, soon conquered Germany, where ever the American and Russian army would meet.

There they were, the town of Torgau.

Russia nodded, his smile still in place. " Good!" he declared cheerfully " Then we can all go on our way, da? You and I have a lot to do, I will not keep you here any longer."

The meaning was clear behind the polite words, America and England looked at each other with faces that showed equal discomfort. Russia simply waited for them to leave patiently, but the two occidentals were not done.

-" Ludwig enquired about his brother's whereabouts..." England started.

-" How can you allow this?" Russia cut him, reprobation darkening his eyes. " Barking dogs must be beaten! Ludwig should have no more rights in this world!"

England and America just blinked, it was no use arguing about Germany's future with Russia.

" What have you done to Gilbert? Is he still alive?"

Russia said nothing but stuck a hand in his pocket, rummaged a little inside, and retrieved something that looked like a necklace. It was Gilbert's Iron cross, England realized.

-" The little one was hard to break!" Russia explained, an almost dreamy expression on his face. " But at the end, he still died!" He dropped the necklace in America's open hand.

-" Tell Germany that Prussia screamed like a sow for hours before he died, and he couldn't stop screeching how he hated his Nazi pig of a brother!"

England's hand squeezed America's arm and pulled him. " We are done here, Alfred! Let's go!"

Russia waved at them until they were out of sight, then he giggled like a happy child, the wind of East whistling angrily around him.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

France stroked the silver and black cross in his hand reverently and forbid himself to cry. Today, he would not laugh of the tragic fate of an enemy, but he would mourn the loss of an old friend.

Nations lived too long to bother with stupid things like rancour. Prussia had been one of his best friend, and the wars they had led against each other didn't matter, those were fought only because of their bosses' will. To France, and to Prussia too he knew, it had changed nothing for them. They had been friends for too long to let History break that strong bond.

France started at the cross America had entrusted him so he could give it to Ludwig.

He could not believe Gilbert had died, his friend had always pretended to be too awesome for death, and France had always thought it had to be true.

At least, until now.

The fact was there, so blunt, so clear, displayed in front of his eyes on the map where the name 'Prussia' had been erased

France pressed his hand against his eyes a moment before entering the restricted area where Ludwig was held prisoner. It would be hard to tell the already broken man that he would never see his brother again.

Germany looked nothing like the strong man he had been months ago. Defeated, his only small relief has been the suicide of Adolf Hitler, the insane boss that had forced him thought this war and led him to shame. Now Ludwig was left with indelible memories, remorses and the angry laments of those who had found death because of him, be it on the battlefield or in the camps.

Their screams of agony, he knew, would haunt him forever.

Ludwig had not talked about this since he had been taken by the allies, but his eyes spoke of his inner torments better than his mouth ever could. His present appearance revealed his true age. He was still very young for a nation, barely even an adult.

And now, he looked like a child, a lost and frightened child who kept asking for his older brother, the only family he ever had, not knowing of his fate yet.

France didn't know how to tell him, he was at loss for words, but he hoped his eyes would convey his honest compassion when he gently placed Prussia's necklace on the floor of Germany's cell.

Once they fell on the item, blue eyes shot open wide. Ludwig hurried to retrieved the decoration and cradled it to his chest, his hand shielding it from view, and all sanity seemed to abandon him. His body trembled a moment, then, suddenly and without taking any air in, he screamed much louder than his lungs probably allowed.

It was a feral, wordless scream and it sounded like it couldn't possibly come from a single human's mouth. The sheer power of it went through the wall of the cell and France's heart.

It went through the air and kept the distance.

And eventually, it was heard by the ears it has sought.

Red eyes blinked in confusion.

-" What was that, master?" the one who once had been a kingdom asked the one he thought was his saviour.

-" Probably a lone wolf howling to death, little one. Go back to sleep now" The tall man with violet eyes drew the blanket further over his slightly trembling charge. " stay warm, da?"

TBC