"This is unjust..!"
"Ludwig." Prussia chastised the blonde firmly, "You know this is necessary. I have obligations as a nation; duties to fulfill. That will not change." Scarlet eyes focused on the leather reigns in his hands.
"If you leave now, I'll never forgive you." the teen glared up at Gilbert with such animosity that the knight was taken aback.
Ludwig's words hurt. No doubt how the blonde nation wanted them to.
Anyone else would have been backhanded for being so brash towards the Prussian, but such defiance was uncharacteristic of Ludwig.
Germany almost never disobeyed.
Prussia pursed his lips as he gazed down at the younger nation before him sternly. The other knights flanking his sides shifted in their saddles uneasily, knowing all too well how Gilbert's temper flared when he was challenged. The albino sighed wearily, his anger subsiding. Ludwig did not understand.
He knew nothing of the world as he had not yet seen it. He was too young as a nation.
As if reading his mind, Germany narrowed his eyes, "I'm not a child, Preußen." He lifted a prim chin. Ludwig only addressed him by his formal name when he was upset with his brother.
"Nor are you in the position to speak out of place." Gilbert reminded him cooly.
Germany's eyes lowered, jaw clenched. He gave a meek nod all the same, and for the first time that day he sounded his age, "Don't go, Gilbert." He whispered, in a pleading voice. He was too prideful to actively beg but with each growing second he felt that was the only option left. Perhaps he could guilt Prussia into staying, though he knew this to be morally unsound.
"Westen..." Prussia spoke the name warmly. He hesitated, seeming at a loss for words and for a strangled moment he wanted to comfort the younger. He leaned over his saddle and stretched out his hand towards the adolescent, who snatched it all too eagerly into his own, desperately clinging to the offered comfort, meager as it was. After a few moments, Gilbert reluctantly pulled his hand away.
His heart gave a guilty tug.
Ludwig's face was morose and dejected and utterly broken.
"You have to promise." The blonde said suddenly, lifting his eyes to meet Gilbert's again, boldly.
"Promise what exactly?" The nation inquired.
"That you'll come back." The thought of never seeing Gilbert again terrified him.
Though knew he could promise no such thing, the albino attempted to give a confident smirk as he ruffled his brother's hair, "Of course." He replied easily, though he had a hard time letting the words out, knowing he was intentionally lying to the boy.
"Promise me." Germany demanded, ignoring the familiar playful gesture.
"I promise, Westen." Gilbert sobered, pausing to reach a hand into his vest for a moment. His hands brushed the iron cross that lay against his breast, a symbol of his knighthood and the cause he believed in since the Council of Trent. One of his most prized possessions. He lifted it over his head and pressed it into Ludwig's palm.
Pale blue eyes glanced down at the object in his hand before searching his own in confusion.
"So you know." Prussia swallowed thickly, "That I'll come back." He smiled, but it turned into a grimace. "You'll look after it, won't you?" he asked, "In my absence?"
Ludwig held the cross carefully like some precious, fragile, animal, running his thumb along the smooth surface, still warm from Gilbert's chest. He raised his head and gave a single, mute nod.
. . .
Even after Gilbert had returned he never asked for it back. So Ludwig kept it for all those years, unwilling to relinquish his hold on the one thing that made him feel close to Gilbert when he was not there. He would not let it go. As ludicrous as it was to have a petty object be a part of oneself, it was a part of Ludwig. It made sense to him as Prussia was any part of Germany.
In Gilbert's more permanent absence he would still watch over it. Because they would cross paths again. He didn't know when or where. But this time...
Gilbert would stay.