** Authors note. This is in Ludwig's POV and this fic is not intended to be Germancest in any way. This will not be continued, it was more of a practice fic.

PS. I am not fluent in German and my English is a little off sometimes, my apologies!**

25th of February, 2012 Day of Gilbert Beilschmidt's Death

I groaned as my alarm clock blarred it's annoying beeping, and lazily raised my arm up and planted down my hand to press the snooze button, my face in my pillow. I sighed. "Christ, I'm going to have to get a newer, more quiet alarm clock one of these days." I thought to myself. I rolled back over onto my back and sat up, my legs hang over the side of my bed, I scratched my head and yawned, a miserable look on my face, knowing that today was that day. One of my dogs that were laying at the end of my bed even seemed a little upset as well.

I stood up and stretched, walking over to my window and opening the curtains to show a beautiful winter morning that awaited me to step into it. I walked out of my bedroom into the kitchen to make coffee, then getting the newspaper left at my door and eating breakfast. I then went back into my bedroom to get dressed into one of my winter coats and such, it was going to be cold out. I grabbed a pair of ear muffs in case it was colder than I thought it would be. I grabbed my things and made my way for the door, opening it and stepping out into the snow, closing the door behind me and locking it as usual. I pulled my collar up a bit to at least keep my neck from getting closed, damn, I should have gotten a scarf. I walked down the snow covered stone path from my door to the gate at the front of my house, opening it and walking out, then closing it behind me. Heading down the street, my footprints were left in the snow, soft snowflakes fell all around.

After a period of walking, I had finally made it there, to the cemetery. A high grade Berlin-made cemetery which had a fancy old fence around it and a gate similar to the one at my house in front of it, once my brother had passed away, he was sent here. He deserved best. I stood in front of the gate, looking inside of the cemetery, spotting my brother's grave almost instantly after seeing it so many times. With a sigh, I opened the gate and walked inside, down the stone path to the very back of the cemetery, where Gilbert's grave was placed, it being quite noticeable and large. I walked up to it and looked it over, it had the black eagle that was on his flag engraved into the cold stone, his name and date of birth and death below it.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt
January 18th 1701 - February 25th 1947"
There's a small engraved quote in German at the very bottom which reads "Er, der sich in Alter wärmen will, muss über einen Kamin in seiner Jugend zu bauen.". (1)

I sat next to the grave, wondering what we would be talking about right now if he was still here, he'd probably be rambling on about economy or something...

I frowned, glancing at the bag I have over my shoulder. Right. The flowers. I placed down my bag to take out a bunch of blue cornflowers, placing them in front of his grave. "I'll come back with new ones if those wither.", I said reassuringly.

After a minute or so of thinking and silence, I spoke.

"I just want you to know that I miss you. I'll visit you here every year until the day I die.", I then said, tearing up a slight bit.

"I promise." a single tear rolled down my cheek as I murmured those two words. I shut my eyes and exhaled.

**Translation:
"Er, der sich in Alter wärmen will, muss über einen Kamin in seiner Jugend zu bauen." (1)

"He who wants to warm himself in old age must build a fireplace in his youth." (1)**