Hello! I'm not really sure what's going on in this fanficaiton, but this is basically almost a red riding hood version in Hetalia. I got my inspiration for this from Over the Garden Wall which you should totally watch. My chapters are going to be short in this fanfication so it will be easier for me to write more and not force myself to write lengthy (mainly so I can concentrate on what I already have written).
This will be a chaptered fanfiction and hopefully uniquely good too. I have a couple things planned, though so far I only have gerita planned for the ships in mind. That may change later on.
Thank you, and I hope you enjoy :)
The patter of feet on the hardwood flooring did not wake Ludwig.
He was a good sleeper as his parents constantly reminded him, he seemed be a good child as they praised him. Though, at first, they thought he was a mute. Ludwig did not like talking. He wasn't a social being. Gilbert covered most of the talking.
Oh how his parents loved them both.
Gilbert whisked into the room, spotting Ludwig wrapped up in his covers. He cursed under his breath before sprinting over to the other.
Gilbert shook the blond violently, glancing around quickly then gathering up some materials and shoving them into their father's old military bag that he had found in their closet.
They must be going. They would be killed too.
Tears, again, were welling up in his eyes.
Ludwig was too young to understand.
He already missed his parents. He wished he had not been there to witness it, the smell and the sight was pushed back into his head.
Yes, denial was a good option at the moment.
The soldier had told him to run. He had been a kind one, sparkling blue eyes and soft, feathery looking brown hair. Nothing like the other soldiers. Their eyes black as coal that had seeped into their hearts.
Ludwig was now up, sitting in the bed and questioning the elder brother.
"What is happening? Are we running away?" He had asked. So innocent.
"No brother," Gilbert had responded in his native language. "Mother and father want us to go out to town."
Ludwig glanced over at his clock. It was so early in the morning, nearly past three o'clock. Why were they going into town now? He raised an eyebrow, but did not press the subject.
"We will be staying in town, for it is a long walk, gather some of your things," Gilbert continued, answering his unspoken question.
He shoved some of his valuables into the bag before grabbing another sack from the closet and throwing it at Ludwig.
The younger brother recoiled with oof and begun to pack when Gilbert started violently shoving clothing into his bag.
Of course he took his teddy bear, he took the teddy bear whenever they went out, and many extra pairs of clothing. Hopefully Gilbert would never see the diary he added to his things.
He remembered to include one of their soft blankets before Gilbert rushed down the stairs, Ludwig trailing after, to take some food from their kitchen.
Once the too German brothers had packed their things, leaving their room bare. Gilbert seemed anxious, which caused Ludwig to become nervous. He tried to pack up their things quicker, and somehow managed.
Where had mother and father gone? Hopefully they were all right. He loved them so much.
There came a knock on the door though, Gilbert grew rigid and tears were pooling in his red eyes. He headed to the mantel, where a fire in its hearth was beginning to die out. He swiped up a couple of old photographs before answering a door.
"It's time for you to leave," came a voice. The German was hinted heavily with an accent that Ludwig did not recognize.
Gilbert hesitantly nodded.
The two brothers laced up their winter's boots; Gilbert draped Ludwig in a red clock, crimson like blood. He took the pure white one for himself before they exited their home. Gilbert covered their necks in warm, grey scarves.
"Who are these people?" Ludwig asked, in a quiet voice.
People garbed in black military uniforms pooled from all corners of the street. Other people were screaming, gunfire sounded (for gunfire does not echo) across the block, and a distinct smell filled the air that Ludwig would never forget.
"We should help that child," Ludwig continued to press, pointing to a teenager who lied in the street, blood pooling from his chest as they ran away from the house.
Gilbert knew that the body was lifeless.
Ludwig assumed that he was merely asleep.
But in the end, they are both right- being dead is just the final sleep.
"He's not a child, Lud, he's older than you," Gilbert commented quietly, before pressing his brother along.
The smell of smoke and fire clouded their lungs, burning their nostrils and causing the smaller, weaker brother to lag behind. Their eyes were stinging horribly.
But as Gilbert glanced back, he could see their house blown up in flames, blood was filling the cracks between the bricks, and people remained screaming. A hush was beginning to form and the gunfire was ceasing.
Gilbert continued on. Ludwig did happen to finally look back, spotting their house engulfed in flames, tears brimming at his eyes now.
"No! No! My home! Gilbert, we have to go back! Mom and Dad!"
"Shut up, Luddy!" Gilbert hissed. He hadn't meant to sound so mean. He clasped his hand over his brother's mouth, feeling the hot tears and salvia drip over his pale skin.
Ludwig was a good kid. He obeyed every command, and barely broke a rule unless his stubbornness got in the way. He could tell the right from the wrong. Upon being like this, he was quickly shushed.
That did prevail the black dirtied (caked blood and ash sprinkled) uniformed soldiers from looking back at them, a couple pointing in their direction. Some of them began to peruse the boys.
Ludwig could be in the military. But Gilbert didn't want that. Did anyone want that?
The soldiers were shouting at them to stop. Gilbert would never stop running.
There was that soldier again. He flung his arm out and commanded them to stop. The soldiers halted.
Gilbert's eyes widened. He started to run again, his brain telling him to keep going and dragged now silently crying brother along after him.
Fire swirled around them, their Gilbert's black and Ludwig's red cloaks disappearing into the smoke filling the space behind them as they made their escape.
Possibly he would meet that general, or soldier, in the future.
He would thank him. Possibly he was a good person, mislead.
His father at one point in his life had been like that man.
The white and red-cloaked figures streaked their way across the main street. The scenery was changing.
The houses were burnt to the ground; smoke emitting from the ashes. The smell of blood lingered in the air as they streamed past.
Gilbert's cloak was now beginning to gather red stains on the trim.
Their breath was short, the smoke impaling their lungs relentlessly. Mother and Father would have wanted them to live; therefore Gilbert would see their wish through. Possibly he could live his life in denial, just a lie with no truth to his words. Possibly that could not be as bad as it sounds.
After silence and running from the soldiers if they spotted them, the blond decided to address the situation.
"Gilbert, tell me what's happening. You know you can't keep it a secret forever."
"I will tell you later." He would reply.
The dawn finally settled against the horizon, illuminating the pathway that Ludwig and Gilbert were traveling on.
Early, they did not need the light travel. As they continued to walk the brick roads earlier this morning, the constant homes covered in flames lit their way.
But now in the light, Gilbert could see Ludwig properly.
He had dark moons under his eyes; his blue eyes puffy and irritated from the constant smoke, his lips looked pale, and in all he did look rather pale. Bruises covered his arms from when the soldiers had attempted to grab them early. Besides having his eyes stung from the smoke, it looked like he had been crying as well.
Gilbert could image that he did not look any better.
According to his pocket watch, it was around seven in the morning.
A couple of hours ago the brick roads had turned into dusty, dirt ones.
They had taken the path to the border. Not on the path though, they could hear metal clinking and the eruption of boots. Surely they would be crushed if they dared to walk along side the soldiers and their equipment.
So, they walked along the path, ducking between the bushes and shrubs.
They could be assassins after all this running and escaping. Ludwig wasn't a very strong kid, though. He got constantly picked on at school. His poor dear brother, he was not living a good life so far, was he?
Thank the lord that Gilbert had found their parents money supply though they needed it.
They reached a village outside the border.
After gaining supplies, they continued on.
This time, Gilbert headed into the woods.
"We aren't supposed to travel through the woods. No one with sense goes through the woods," Ludwig said.
"I'll keep you safe." His older brother reassured.
He decided to believe him.
The woods were lovely, deep and dark. The snow was visible here and was soft under their feet as they traveled along.
It had only just been the beginning.
Gilbert was thirteen and Ludwig had been nine.
So young, but they start so early.
Together they went into the woods, running until safety finally reached them.