Schloss Charlottenburg
It's smaller than he remembers; then again, most things are. Ludwig can almost close his eyes and hear the halls reverberating with sound as he runs down them. And the rain, falling slowly to his face, is like Elizabeta's kisses or Roderich's hand on his forehead. Two hands on his waist are the same ones that used to throw him high into the air, catching him in a loving embrace. All things Ludwig barely remembers.
"Lutz?" There's a kiss on one of his shoulder blades; he can feel it despite the heavy jacket.
"I remember it being bigger."
"Ja," Gil says in understanding, moving around his body. Ludwig feels his brother shift to stand under his arm. "I know what you mean."
"Do you ever miss it?" he whispers. "The palaces, the things we now must visit in museums?" Ludwig sometimes wishes he could return to that childhood, to Roderich and Elizabeta married, to Gilbert proud and strong, to memories he can almost remember and faces that were once so high above him, but now he stands eye-to-eye with.
The paler man blinks, taking in the palace, before smiling up at his brother. "Nein," Gil sighs, "because if I had to choose between that-" he gestures to towards Schloss Charlottenburg "-and you, Lutz-" he strokes the side of his baby brother's face "-it wouldn't even be a question." On tiptoes Gilbert kisses his brother; once upon a time it had been Ludwig on tip toes. It's the same kiss they've shared for years, affectionate, brotherly, pure love. It's exactly how Ludwig remembers it always being.