Ludwig left feeling more cheerful than he had in what felt like centuries. He popped open a dark blue umbrella to shield himself from the downpour. The umbrella wasn't new, but it was the best his brother could afford, and it seemed like an insult not to use it. "I will not have my dear little bruder getting himself sick because he doesn't have an umbrella." The elder German declared almost two weeks earlier, and thrust the object into his younger brother's arms. Gilbert passed the gesture off as nothing of importance, but Germany noticed that something would always go missing from Prussia's home a few days before Ludwig received a gift.
A few pieces of silverware or a treasured fragment of a bygone war would be sold in secret to cushion the younger brother's poverty, despite Gilbert's own dying economy. Both of them knew, but neither breathed a word of it out of understanding. To refuse Prussia's help would be to call him a failure as a brother and for blatantly offering help to Ludwig would be to call him a failure as a nation. And so, with the mock seriousness of children, their game of 'I Don't Need It/You Can Have It' continued.
The blonde nation promised himself that one day he would get back everything that his older brother sacrificed for him, and he could now feel that day was rapidly approaching.
When Ludwig reached his modest home in western Berlin, he was put on guard by the absence of the usual noise. Gone were the dogs that frequently patrolled the yard and he walked to the door expecting a furry welcome, but received none.
His fears were eased when he saw inside, his brother on the couch with the animals lying at his feet. "Welcome back West, how was coffee with the Chancellor of greater Germany? Is he the same in person?" Gilbert grinned and tried to get up unsuccessfully. The largest dog, Bromme, pinned the white haired nation to the couch under his massive girth. Unsympathetic to his brother's distress, Ludwig teased the elder German and pulled the animal off, taking its place on the couch.
"The Furher was much kinder than I expected, and he has great plans for rebuilding this country." Ludwig began to explain the concept of Lebensraum in great detail. The elder brother had heard bits of the man's speeches on the radio but, altogether Gilbert avoided human politics. The elder looked skeptical, politicians would promise anything to get elected and then conveniently forget all when they reached office. But in the end, Gilbert was happy if his brother was and he hoped some good would come out of the situation. Then he remembered something of great importance to ask his younger brother.
"Did you ask him about the moustache?" Prussia asked eagerly.
The blonde's hopes of a serious conversation died immediately and he frowned, drawing creases that made the elder laugh.
"Of course not!" Ludwig was indignant, how could he ask such stupid things? Gilbert grinned mischievously. His brother was so much fun when his feathers were ruffled
"C'mon West! I want to know why he has that ridiculous thing under his nose!"
Fully taking the bait, the blonde scrambled to defend his Boss "It was not ridiculous! I'm sure it is a perfectly fashionable way to style one's facial hair."
"Name one person besides him who has that 'fashionable style' as you call it."
Ludwig folded his arms and thought deeply for a time. "That American film actor you like, Charlie something."
"Charlie Chaplain's a comedian for Christ's sake!" Gilbert clutched his sides in mirth, but his reason changed when he felt a pain shooting up his ribs.
He refused to show his agony but his eyes betrayed his pride. Ludwig's frustration was traded for concern as gloved fingers lightly touched the bruised area "How bad is it?" he asked. Gilbert hissed at the contact and kept any hint of discomfort out of his voice "This depression's killing me, I swear I gonna wring France's neck the next time I see him!"
The blonde watched his brother force a laugh and saw it get cut short again, this time, the German nearly doubled over. Ludwig knitted his brows together, something had to be done he didn't know how long they could live like this.
"Gilbert, next time I see the Furher I want you to meet him. I know he can help with your suffering, too."
The next day Ludwig couldn't help himself, he was drawn to the Berlin Square Theater like a moth to a flame. The surrounding buildings were rouged with the red of Nazi flags. People cheered and blissfully sang the songs like they knew them their whole lives. The blonde embraced the heady feeling that wrapped around his senses like a soft blanket. It tasted sweet on his tongue and was absorbed into his blood like alcohol, and Ludwig wished his brother was here to share his pleasure.
The man from yesterday took to the stage like God descending from heaven to speak to Moses. His words shook the air around him and ignited a fire within the heart of the crowd giving birth to an uproar. The chancellor urged them to tear off the suffocating binds that held them down and to seek retribution against the demons that stole their hearts, their pride.
…We are neither weak nor dead…Our war machine will move again, rusted gears will return to life and roar like thunder …Our machine will be heard across the world… powerful and devastating, it will crush everything in our path…They will shed blood for our tears…
They will die!
