1921
Never before in his entire life had he stepped into a more fancy building. He had heard that the Neues Palaiswasn't even the noblest of palaces in Europe, hell not even in Potsdam, but having grown up in a shabby neighborhood in the city of Kassel, even the ugliest of places would have looked glorious to him. Sure, the capital of Hesse-Nassau, a core province of the Kingdom of Prussia and the German Empire, also had impressive buildings to offer, like the Schloss Wilhelmshöhe, but as a young boy he would have never been granted entrance.
Under different circumstances he would probably have never ended up as a officer of the Prussian army, but for him there hadn't been a realistic alternative. His family background was rather simple after all. As the son of a copper-smith he and his four younger siblings were raised in common fashion at the time. One, if not all, of the male children would succeed their father in his profession. He knew early on there wouldn't be any academic job for him. He wasn't gifted in mathematics, was bored by linguistics and just couldn't get along with his science teacher, which spoiled his interest in the subject. So from the beginning on it was clear, that he would have to take over his father as a copper-smith. That was until the industrialization also swept over the German Empire. With the rise of his homeland, vanished his future. His father's business had to close and so the outbreak of the first World War seemed like a godsend. All of the sudden he turned from a young, lower-middle-class boy without a real perspective into SchützeZöllner, one of the lowest rank in the German Infantry. It didn't took him very long to be promoted to Gefreiter and then Obergefreiter in an even shorter amount of time. Unlike the other boys – he couldn't bring himself to call them men – he didn't join the army because he was drafted or because of his sheer love of his country or because of the promise of glory after a successful battle. He had enlisted himself, because he knew that most likely, he would have to stay here even after the war was over. After the war was won.
At the beginning he had tried to impress his commanding officers with his bravery, with his endurance and his patriotism. Like when he had raced to the grenades thrown into their trenches by enemy forces and threw them back out, while the rest of his division hid and ducked behind piles of dirt, mud and gear. Or when he had volunteered to deliver important orders and instructions to other regiments under direct fire from the French soldiers. Or how he was always the loudest when they sang their German marching songs. However, the further he climbed up the career ladder of the army the more he realized that in order to being promoted even higher, boot-licking and brown-nosing proved to be far more efficient. In the end he noticed that he was far better at that, than he would have ever been at mathematics or linguistics.
"Hauptmann Zöllner." A rough voice brought him back to reality. He searched around for a source of the voice until his eyes locked onto a tall and well-build guard, who just stepped out of the massive oak doors leading into the Kaiser's private study.
"His Highness is ready to receive you now." The guard yelled, a few volumes too loud for Zöllner's liking, but he guessed the men working for the Empire were just trained to talk in a authoritarian way. After all he was too.
Zöllner stood up from the bench he was sitting on and thanked the guard before saluting him. The other man followed suit and kept standing by the door, until Zöllner had took himself into the Emperor's private quarters. What awaited him there might have surprised some, but not those who knew the Kaiser personally or at least those that had heard about the Kaiser from their commanding officers. The German Emperor sat laid back on his saddle, which he used as a chair in front of his desk, wearing a full on Guard du Corps uniform on his body and an even larger grin on his face. Zöllner had heard people still referring to the Kaiser as the 'man with the pointed mustache', even though Wilhelm II had outgrown his trademark facial hair by now. His once salient mustache had turned into a full beard covering the lower half of his face. His once dirty blonde hair had lost most of its color and seemed to have become more unruly than ever. While it still lay neatly and clad at the beginning of the parting of his hair, it became curlier and messier towards the end. Zöllner concluded that it looked as if the Kaiser had tried to comb his hair, but just gave up half way through. It all served as a reminder to the young officer. Although the man was well within in sixties, there still was this youthful energy surrounding him. Even as an old man he was still the same. The same man that had once brought glory to their Vaterland. And he could do it once again.
"Ah, Hauptmann Zöllner! Come in, come in, quite the pleasure seeing you here." The Kaiser exclaimed happily, as he practically jumped up from his saddle with a energetic alacrity which Zöllner wouldn't even have thought him capable of. With his good right arm he gestured towards a door on the far right next to the enormous windows, through which entered the gleaming sun rays of the early Berlin sun.
Zöllner had remembered just in time to let the Kaiser lead the way. After his performance in Melbourne the Bulgarian as well as the few higher-ranking German officers all let him lead the way. Meanwhile the Kaiser apparently didn't even noticed Zöllner's hesitance.
As soon as Wilhelm had opened the door, Zöllner spotted two men sitting on what looked to be very expansive sofas while holding tea cups. Both of them looked up, when Wilhelm and Zöllner had entered, with the light-colored man having to turn around as he was facing the door with his back. Zöllner couldn't help but think that he heard the two men hush up immediately after seeing they weren't alone anymore, as if they were discussing something clearly not destined for anyone's but their ears. One of the men, the blonde one, rose from the sofa as Zöllner and Wilhelm neared them and lay down the delicate white china cup he was holding on the equally delicate glass table in front of him.
"Hauptmann Moritz Zöllner," he stated in a firm voice while offering him his now cup-free hand, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. If I may introduce my bro-"
"Ahh, shush! No need for introductions. We all know who each of us is." Wilhelm interrupted suddenly, which seemed to have startled the blonde man as he stood frozen and looked perplexed towards Wilhelm, who either didn't notice the glare being sent his way or frankly didn't care.
Maybe as some sort of ice breaking, Zöllner decided to chip in, even though he couldn't fully hide the amused smile at the blonde man's distress.
"Well, his Majesty is quite right, no? Just like every other self-respecting German soldier and officer, I of course also know of the Misters Beilschmidt, who do such a fine job at representing our great nation." Zöllner tried to soothe the situation, while spreading both of his arms wide to the sides as if he was opting for a hug. He smiled slightly in an attempt to reassure the Kaiser as well as the two brothers.
Ludwig Beilschmidt seemed to compose himself at Zöllner's words. He withdrew his hand as he straighten again and instead used it to fasten the top button of his suit jacket and swiped with one of his hands over his sleek, slicked back hair. He grunted quietly, but nodded towards the the young officer before him, although he didn't return the smile. "Indeed. After we were informed that the Treaty of Melbourne was signed, we also heard of you, Hauptmann Zöllner."
"Ach, Hauptmann." Wilhelm discounted Ludwig's choice of words with a dismissive wave of his right hand, "After the deed accomplished by our young friend here, I think a promotion is in the air. Don't you think, Oberst Zöllner?"
"Oberst?!" Gilbert Beilschmidt blurted out shocked, as he jolted up from the sofa and starred at Wilhelm, "Your Majesty, forgive my bluntness, but I think you got something mixed up here."
Observing his brother from the side, Ludwig could see how much it required his brother to stay clam and address Wilhelm in an at least somewhat polite manner. His eyes were wide open and his eyebrows slightly creased ,as his brow furrowed. Ludwig even heard a low, worn out breath leaving Gilbert's slightly opened mouth. Meanwhile Gilbert stretched out his hands with open palms as if demanding an explanation.
Unlike Ludwig, Wilhelm wasn't as concerned about Gilbert, as he shrug off the Prussian's objection the same way he had dismissed Ludwig earlier. "I'm sure nobody would dare questioning if a promotion of a man, who performed such a great deed for our country and ourselves, was all according to protocol." The Kaiser smiled reassuringly to Zöllner, who saw the time ripe to interfere now.
"Now your Majesty, while I am more than flattered to hear such kind words from your mouth and am honored to even be considerable for a promotion, I think I have to decline and agree with Mister Beilschmidt here. It was only because of your as well as your hand-picked advisers' fantastic warfare, which put the there-present officers and me in such a powerful position to negotiation a peace treaty, the allies had no other option but to sign. I hardly think my involvement was enough to justify a promotion that would completly skip one rank." Zöllner spoke softly and calmly in a voice he hoped sounded sincere. He made a mental note to keep practicing that later.
"Nonsense, Zöllner. Don't sell yourself short, my boy. Major Weißberg and Oberstleutnant Heitfeld have already reported back to their commander in chief, that you are the most responsible for this success. Tsar Boris transmitted a telegram telling me that even the Bulgarian representatives thought you were the most intimidating negotiator present. But if the Misters Beilschmidt insist and your modesty prevents you from accepting my offer, we'll do it like this. For now you are hopefully going to accept a promotion to Major and who knows, maybe by the end 'Oberst' will slip over my mouth again, how does that sound, Misters Beilschmidt, Major Zöllner?" The Kaiser grinned like a child who just played a trick on its parents.
Gilbert bit his lower lip, until he tasted a small drop of blood within his mouth. He looked up towards his brother, prompting him to interfere. When it came to Wilhelm, he knew Ludwig was better suited to talk to him. After all, they almost grew up together. As a young child Wilhelm had seen and witnessed the very shaping of the country he would one day reign and as a result took a very specific liking to Ludwig. Certainly greater than that of his grandfather, who only reluctantly and with quite the pressure and persuasion put onto him by none other than Bismarck, accepted the very idea of a unified Germany. Of Gilbert's little brother. But to his dismay, Gilbert's little brother stayed silent. He merely observed the conversation before him with his expression set in stone. Gilbert wanted to scream, to urge him forward, to somehow interrupt what was about to happen. But no one said a word. He knew that Wilhelm would accepted Ludwig's opinion and advises, sometimes that is, but from him? Despite being called German Emperor, Wilhelm oftentimes saw himself very much as the Emperor of Germany. Maybe because of the only minor age difference or maybe because he witnessed the declaration of Ludwig as a official country himself as a young boy, but the Kaiser firmly believed his words to be given and anyone disagreeing certainly wasn't one Wilhelm kept around him for a very long time. In fact there were only a few people whom Wilhelm actually listened to, and from whom he accepted differing opinions, Ludwig counted to them, at least to some degree; Gilbert not so much. In retrospect, the albino had to admit that he was also partly to blame for that. Although Wilhelm's grandfather Wilhelm I wasn't so keen on Ludwig, he felt much more passionate about Prussia. His reluctance to accept the crown and title of German Emperor probably wasn't least founded in the fear, that he would have to give up the title of King of Prussia. A title Gilbert could never stand. Or at least not in the way the people said it nowadays. King of Prussia. As if he belonged to someone. That was probably one of the reasons he had liked none of the other monarchs that came with the time, quite as much as Frederick the Great. After all it was him, who referred to himself as the first servant of state, rather than king. Back in the 1860s he sensed something similar like that in the future Kaiser Friedrich III and his wife Princess Royal Victoria. They were the ones who wanted to break with the reactionary, ultraconservative future plans the reigning monarchs had in mind for Germany. He was a liberal at heart, she was one in mind. Together they wanted to form an open-minded, democratic, enlightened Germany. Apart from his brother's happiness, Gilbert also had his own reasons in supporting the then crown prince and crown princess. A democratic country meant one not at mercy of having to dodge a bullet every time the current monarch dies and having to hope that his successor isn't a complete buffoon. So Gilbert tended to side with Friedrich III and his wife more often later on, when they clashed against Wilhelm I and Bismarck. The young Wilhelm II, who would grow up to associate everything related to his parents as the pure evil, started to take notice how his parents suddenly got backing by a certain gray-haired albino. Looking back, Gilbert thought that he really shouldn't have underestimated young Wilhelm or maybe should have paied more attention to the psychological damage his sometimes admittedly harsh upbringing had on him. But Gilbert was too busy to notice how the young boy was constantly swamped by his parents' high academic expectations on him, how he was pushed back onto the horse again and again when he was forced to learn how to ride and his crippled left arm couldn't keep him balanced on top of the horse or how his perfectionist mother's rather bluntly shown disdain for his disability prevented her from loving him unconditionally.
"Well, I think Iam hardly in a position to disagree." Zöllner brought the conversation back on track with a subtle, smug smile, which made Gilbert wonder if the small-sized man could read thoughts.
"Splendid!" Wilhelm tossed in without awaiting some reply from the two nations. "Then I would ask you, Herr Major, to follow me into one of the more secluded rooms and tell me in great detail how the meeting went. My cousin Georgie was there, no? Tell me, did he say something about me?"
Gilbert and Ludwig watched their Kaiser and the newly promoted and soon-to-be promoted officer escape through the same wooden door they emerged from. Gilbert kept on observing them as they slowly exited from his line of vision and saw how Wilhelm lightly slapped the smaller man on the shoulder in an encouraging manner. His next gaze however, fell on his brother.
"I am sure you're going to tell me why you didn't object?" Gilbert's voice still reflected the stress from having to keep his mouth shut.
Ludwig didn't reply at first. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head slightly. "Why does this matter so much to you?" He eventually said, much rougher than even he had anticipated.
"Why it matters to me?" Ludwig sighed inwardly as he heard his brother's anger level rising again, "Why doesn't this seem to concern you?! Handing out orders and promoting as if they meant nothing. For which some people actually risked and lost their lives. And he just hands them out like this. This doesn't make you mad at all?"
"Shhhsh!" The blonde man hissed, "Stay quiet. They're only in the next room, they'll hear you."
Gilbert rolled his eyes, but listened to his brother nonetheless and quieten down. "Just as well. It would be time someone actually stood against him and told him something about how a proper head of state should behave."
After he deemed his brother had calmed down enough – although he was still mumbling and pouting in his seat – Ludwig moved over to him and sat down. "I hope you can control yourself this time when I ask you again, why does this matter to you so much? And don't get me wrong, I don't like this either, but not all medals, promotions or orders were given out just for actual deeds committed. Having the right connection or a certain blood line has been enough for a lot of cases. You didn't even complain that much when that idiot von Steerthoff was promoted to Lieutenant, just because his late father was a second cousin to the Mayor's favorite carter's wife best friend. In comparison to him, Zöllner seems more than overqualified to be given the supreme command of the entire military. So I have to ask you again, why does this matter so much to you?"
"Because he's here to stay. I may not know Wilhelm as well as you do, but I saw it in him. He wants to keep that toady around." Gilbert explained while he grimaced as if he had tasted British food.
"A few flattering words and you think Wilhelm would be deluded by him? I know probably better than anyone that Wilhelm has troubles separating personal and business things, but he's not so easily stricken to just accept everyone who adulates him. Especially during the war he was very keen on only trusting people who proved their trust in them."
"Oh, please you know as well as I do, that he's desperate for applause and praise and anyone who gives just that to him convincingly, is already in his good books. And hearing that from someone who might be quite the big shot in the future? Even the foreign print media were reporting and fearing of him after he was propagated as the one who brought the British king down on his knees. I'm telling you, we certainly haven't seen the last from that midget."
"Then explain to me, why would that be so bad? You have gotten used to a lot of different officers and advisers around the Kaisers and Kings around here and I know very well of your hatred towards some of the inner circle. Why would Zöllner be such an awful addition?"
"Haven't you heard what he said?" Gilbert was becoming louder again. "'Who do such a fine job at representingour great nation'." he quoted Zöllner and even imitated the man's singsong voice. Frustrated he rose from his seat and lunched at the glass table before him, which caused the tea cups on it to shatter into pieces as they landed harshly on the floor boards. Gilbert stormed off after that, leaving Ludwig behind alone to collect the broken pieces he had caused.
Kneeling down on the floor, Ludwig almost seemed like he wanted to laugh, although he rolled his blue eyes. "So this is what it's about again." he huffed. Ludwig couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or in some weird way even amused about his brother's constant complaint. On second thought though, he was definitely annoyed. He didn't know if Gilbert had always had this issue with being disregard as just a representative and he had only just noticed it now or if he developed that habit rather recently. Ludwig saw it as a necessity, that they should accept or at least tolerate that sometimes their tasks were reduced to mundane representative duties. He had managed to come to terms with that very early on, but Gilbert not so much. Sometimes Ludwig wondered if he really was the older one of the two brothers. Although he would never say it out loud, Ludwig found himself more often speculating if Prussia as a actual state really had a future. Now he was sure no monarch that came from the Hohenzollern dynasty would abolish Prussia and he would certainly risk his own life for his brother, but he also knew of Gilbert's temperament and rash personality and how traits like these weren't exactly useful in times when every word has to be weight up, because it could have caused a war. Or maybe even cause the next one. But no, he shouldn't be thinking about something like that. About Gilbert's values being denigrated or about yet another war. He didn't have time to wonder about these 'What if thoughts'. They were useless, unrealistic and absurd. Like, what if Prussia was to be abolished? What if had Germany had lost the war? Agh! Ludwig cursed his abstruse thoughts again, as he noticed that they had distracted him from what he was actually doing. He opened his clenched palm to reveal blood dripping down his hand as he had cut himself from one of the shard from the broken tea cup pieces he had picked up.