FOR THE LOVE OF PASTA, READ THE DAMN WARNING!
IT IS THERE FOR A REASON…..
Warning: Some of these stories(not all) in the coming chapters will contain Yaoi, some of which may be hardcore. Yaoi is boy x boy love, man meat on man meat, all wieners-no buns. If you are not into that, do not read or complain. You have been fairly warned.
This story and Axis Powers Hetalia depicts people and persons as the direct personification of that nation/country, so if this concept bothers you, this might not be the right story for you, especially if you are unable to mentally grasp that these nations are centuries years old despite their outward appearance.
All people, persons, nations, and whatever represented in these stories are of legal age. No minors of any kind are depicted in these stories by the author, personal perception(s) of the reader(s) aside.
It boils down to this-
IF YOU DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. IT'S THAT FREAKING SIMPLE!
APH Bruder Beilschmidt
Deep in the Black Forest in the mountains of Germany, there lies a church were the brothers of the Heilige Ordnung des Tagebuchs(the Holy Order of the Diary) reside, and safeguard numerous volumes of strange books full of secrets and wonder. These tomes filled numerous deep vaults endless rows from ceiling to floor, the oldest of which date back centuries with writing so faded it was almost eligible. The odd thing though about this collection was that it was ever growing. New volumes arrived on a regular basis, something the youngest and newest member of the order discovered one fateful day.
Brother Grimm knew he should not be looking at the forbidden texts, but after years of sweeping and dusting lengthy bookshelves, he could no longer resist.
To his amazement and shock, Grimm found that each and every entry began with "I am so cool" or "I was so cool today". The 'sacred' books he had sworn to protect with his own life, the very books he had long thought to be some sort of ancient religious text appeared to be nothing more that the ravings of a mad(and very conceited) man. Oddly enough, the wording and style of all the writings were the same as Grimm compared a particularly ancient text to a very recent submission, eyeing it expertly. "Nein, that is impossible!", Grimm muttered, staring in disbelief at it.
Grimm paced in the aisles of books, unsure of his next course of action. "I have got to bring this to Bruder Jude's attention. Surely, he must have some answers. At the very least, he should know what is actually in these books.", Grimm thought in all his youthful arrogance. Grabbing his proof, a particularly ancient leather bound volume dating back to the 15th century and the most recent notebook binder that had just come in last month, Brother Grimm strode resolutely to the Brother Jude's office.
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The head monk was a very old and patient man who really didn't deserve to have his lunch so abruptly interrupted. "Bruder Jude! Bruder Jude! I have found something out that is astounding and could rock the order to its knees!", Brother Grimm yelled, practically kicking in the head monk's office door from his excitement.
"You looked at the diaries.", Brother Jude grumbled as he dusted off his sandwich irritably which he had dropped in his surprise.
"I have looked…..wait…..How did you know?", Grimm asked confused, his initial excitement draining away under Jude's unsurprised gaze as he munched on his sandwich. In quiet explanation so that he could enjoy a bite of his lunch, Jude pointed to books in Grimm's hands.
Grimm blushed as he started to stammer out a reason, but Jude only waved him off. "You know, it is forbidden to look at the texts.", Jude said calmly. "But Bruder, these are not sacred writings from any apostle or saint.", Grimm yelled, gaining some of his original fervor back. Jude sighed, setting his sandwich aside to link and steeple his long fingers, spotted and crooked with age.
"No one ever claimed they were, Bruder.", Jude said simply, staring at Grimm dead on.
Grimm's shoulders slumped as he tried to flinch under the head monk's unwavering gaze. "Then…why all the secrecy? Why all the rules? Why all the constant care and devotion if they are not valuable?", he asked, his tone colored by confusion.
"Not valuable to you perhaps, bruder. They are very valuable to the person they belong to though.', Jude mused aloud, still being annoyingly vague.
"Well ja but who do they belong to?", Grimm asked finally.
"Do you know how this order was started?", Jude asked, the question abrupt.
"Ja bruder, of course. It was ordained by King Frederick the Great in 1740 as a sacred duty to be carried out forever as long as the empire survived and even beyond that.", Grimm recited. Any brother of the order knew this. "Ja, the original founders and builders of this church were knights of the Teutonic Order and devout members of this order.", he continued. "I know all this, but the books….They are not divine unless the saints started to suddenly refer to themselves as 'awesome' and 'cool'.".
"Bruder Grimm, this is a house of God that has taken a solemn vow to uphold a promise.", Jude said in a maddeningly calm tone.
"But to whom?", wailed Grimm, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Do you not live here, bruder? Do you not ever look around? Do you not see?", asked Jude, casting his eyes about the room. Grimm blinked in surprise, taking a real look at the painting in Jude's office. For once, he actually acknowledged his surroundings.
It was strange. He saw the figure in the paintings every day but it never really registered with him before now, the 'it' being the same face over and over again. It was on all the statues here, in all the stained glass windows, and woven into all of the wall tapestries. Grimm had never been sure of who they were trying to depict but it was always the form and face of a lean young man with snowy white skin, silver hair, and scarlet eyes, usually seen dressed in the snow white trappings of a Teutonic knight with a black eagle near him, though oddly enough it appeared in some painting to be a yellow chick perched on his head. Grimm was not sure of the symbolism about that.
"Is he a saint? A lost apostle?", Grimm finally asked, drawing a total blank despite his formidable education.
Jude laughed, slapping his boney knee in mirth. "He is no saint, bruder. Heaven forbid. He is….was a leader of sorts.", chuckled Jude.
"He was then a general, perhaps?", Grimm ventured.
"Nein. That is not the right title for him either. He was the general of generals, answerable only to the king, who lead men fearlessly into battle time and time again, relentlessly expanded the empire, and protected its borders.", Jude explained.
"I still do not understand, bruder. What does this have anything to do with the books?", Grimm asked exasperatedly, tired of the history lessons. He felt he deserved answers.
Jude clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Tsk, tsk, bruder. It has everything to do with them. For you see, they are all his, every single last one of them.", said Jude. Grimm was quiet for a long moment.
"Bruder…..that is impossible.", he said finally in a very careful tone that one used with the mentally unstable.
"Nein, just very improbable.", replied Jude, ignoring the other's delicacy.
"Bruder, he would have to be centuries old.", Grimm tried to reason with the older man, who nodded his head to the statement.
"Ja.", Jude said simply, letting the information sink in a bit longer.
Grimm sat down heavily in a nearby chair. He knew that Jude would never lie to him, but the truth was ridiculous. He tried to make more sense of it all by asking another simple question. "Then why all of this?", he asked weakly, lifting up the forgotten books he still had in hand.
"He likes to keep a diary.", Jude said with a shrug.
"Why are we here?", Grimm asked wearily at a complete loss, feeling shattered in body and mind.
"As a reward for all his service and sacrifice to the empire.", Jude explained gently. He knew the look of a broken man when he saw one.
"This is ridiculous.', Grimm sighed, staring helplessly down at the useless tomes in his hand.
"Nein. It is a promise and one I intend this order to faithfully keep. If you wish to serve elsewhere, I can transfer you , bruder.", Jude said seriously, though he would be sorry to see Brother Grimm go. He liked him even if the man was a little naive and unaware of his surrounding.
"This is my home though I am just not sure of my purpose here anymore.", Grimm sighed, looking up at Jude with a sad, hopeless work.
"The world is full of mysteries and miracles, my son. If you are patient, I promise you, you will see one of them.", Jude promised him, "Until then though, there is some sweeping that needs to be done."
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Many months later…..
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The abbey was covered in a thick blanket of snow and ice filling the walkways, and giving the old gray weathered stone a soft clean look. Enjoying the seemingly endless silence that only winter can bring, Brother Grimm was busy shoveling the walkways when he noticed a figure exited the woods off in the distance. Visitors were almost unheard of here, except the occasional odd lost backpacker, but the figure drew near the church with an obvious purpose in mind. As it drew closer, Grimm saw it was a hooded man, heading toward him. The wayward traveler was dressed in black from head to toe. He wore a long black coat, accented with numerous buckles and straps, the chrome of it glinting sharply even in the weak winter light. Heavy steel toed, knee high leather boots covered his feet as black leather gloves covered his hands. What stopped Grimm's breathe though and made him reach for his ever present yet recently ignored cross was the man's huge black wings that unfurled from his back and stretched out wide in wind. The hood hid the man's face but not the glow of red eyes deep within the depths of his covering as blue smoke poured out from the opening. Grimm stared at the approaching devil in barely contained fear and for the first time in months, started to pray desperately. He mumbled worn verses over and over in panic under his breath, tasting the ash and blood of holy words as they coated his tongue.
The devil stopped short of Brother Grim, who stood frozen in place, expecting the absolute worse. A gloved hand reached up slowly to draw back the hood. Grimm flinched, closing his eyes, not wanting to see the horror that awaited him. "Holy fucking Scheiße, it's cold! Suum Cuique. Gott mit uns und friede sei mit euch", said a loud abrasive voice. Grimm's eyes flew open in surprise to see just a very pale, young man standing before him, smoking a cigarette and wearing a pair of fuzzy white rabbit shaped earmuffs with matching bunny scarf. The other odd thing was a fluffy yellow chick perched in a messy nest of silver hair wearing its own matching bunny earmuffs and scarf. Grimm blinked in confusion at the new arrival, unsure of what he had just seen before. He started to doubt his entire experience entirely as he watched the strange man rub his hands together for warmth, looking up at some of the statues in mild interest. "Suum Cuique. Und mit deinem geiste.", Grimm managed to mumble back, amazed and confused that this stranger knew the secret greeting of the order, known by only a chosen few.
What bothered Grimm the most now though, was that this stranger looked eerily familiar to him. The man, done with his observations, threw Grimm an off hand salute and walked toward the abbey's entrance. Grimm stared into ruby eyes, that against all odds, he suddenly recognized. "It can't be….", thought Grimm as he followed the man. He knew this man's face, almost as well as his own, very well though having seen it everyday in multiple art forms for years. The pale man grinned back at him when he noticed Grimm following behind him nervously. Grimm kept trying to look at him out of the corner of his eyes for he could swear that he could see the outline of feathers and hear the whisper of wings. Tripping over his own feet trying to look at too many things at once, Grimm came out of his stupor to realize that they were heading down to the vaults. "Sir, you can not go in there!", Grimm yelled, moving to block the man's path. The man arched a pale eyebrow at him, smirking widely in an expression that promised violence and pain. Grimm felt his hands tighten around the shovel he still carried in his state of bewilderment. Despite his own fear and the growing sense he was about to meet his maker, Grimm came to terms quite quickly that he had taken a sacred vow to protect the books, even if he had personally deemed them worthless.
"It is alright, Brother Grimm.", Jude said soothingly, surprising Grimm with his sudden presence who dropped the shovel in his surprise. The pale man picked the tool up laughing, handing it back to him. "…But…bruder….", Grimm stammered, accepting the tool with numb hands.
"They are his after all.", said Jude, looking pointedly at the albino. Grimm's mouth went dry as he turned his attentions fully back to the stranger.
"Good to see you again, Jude. Damn you got old.", the pale man said, slapping Jude on the shoulder.
"Not all of us can stay young. Please excuse, Brother Grimm. He is fairly new to the order. Brother Grimm, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt, the first knight of the Teutonic Order. He also happens to be Prussia.", Jude said, introducing the nation to the monk.
There was a long moment of held silence between the trio. "But both of those are dead, bruder.", Jude said slowly, hating to be the bearer of bad news.
"Scheiße, don't I know it. Hey Jude, it is Germany now, and I own a bakery, not a title anymore.", sighed Gilbert, running scarred hands through his silver locks though mindful enough not to dislodge the chick there out of centuries old habit.
"Once a knight of the church, always a knight of the church.", Jude said with a solemn air of quiet authority borne of age and experience out of a devout life.
"Whatever. I just came by to drop off the latest edition personally. I wanted to look up some stuff while I am here.", Gilbert sighed, waving the monks off for some privacy. His secrets or lack there of were his to keep.
"Let us not keep you then. Please do not forget to say goodbye before you leave us, Bruder Beilschmidt.", Jude said politely as Gilbert left them to descend into the vaults.
Gasping for some much needed air and feeling fairly light headed, Grimm sat down heavily on the cold stone floor to put his head between his knees. He replayed the last few minutes in his mind's eye and still couldn't fully absorb what had just happened to him. Jude looked down at him with a mean little twinkle in his eye.
"I promised you a miracle, my son. I didn't ever say it was going to be a good one."