Ch. 2:

Feliciano hummed happily as he absently picked grapes, going farther and farther through the vineyard. It was a pleasant warm day, a perfect time to pick grapes.

"Don't go too far, Feliciano," Lovino called from where he stood at a bush, determined to pick every single grape off it, "You know Grandpa doesn't like us going far."

"Vee, I know," Feliciano called over his shoulder, still walking, "I just want to go a little farther." He always liked going deep into the vineyard.

When he was around eight he had been outside playing hide and seek with Lovino and, even though Grandpa, had told them not to, he had went to hide in the vineyard. Going farther and farther, laughing at how Lovino would never be able to find him. But then he had realized how dark it was getting and that he didn't know the way back, he had walked aimlessly for a while, crying and scared. But then, he took in how quiet it was, how different it felt, it was like surrounding by these tall rows of grapes that he was in a different world. And then Feliciano wasn't scared anymore. Grandpa Roma and Lovino had been furious and relieved when they finally found him but after that Roma had let them come with him to tend to the grapes, and every time Feliciano had wanted to go deeper and deeper into the field, wanting to get lost in the heart of it.

But he wasn't allowed to go to the very edge of the vineyard, because that's where the Vargas and Beilschimdt land met. But Feliciano had been there a few times already, and despite what Lovino had said he was going to go that far today. What they didn't know didn't hurt him, and he'd make sure to pick a lot of grapes to make up for it.

When he no longer could hear his brother and the other workers he started to sing, a nice little song he had heard on the radio earlier that morning, Grandpa Roma had always said he had a good voice, but Feliciano had never been sure if he was telling the truth or not, either way it didn't stop Feliciano, and it never would.

"Quit grumbling," Ludwig said with exasperation as he watched Gilbert slowly pick another grape and place it in the basket, "It's not that taxing a job."

"You don't understand," Gilbert groaned, slowly reaching for another grape, "It's in your DNA to do whatever the old man says, but not me, it's against my genetics, it's against everything I believe in!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes, he loved his brother but he was really nothing more than an overgrown child. "Just keep doing what you're doing," Ludwig ordered before heading out deeper into the vineyard, that's where all the ripe, juicy grapes were.

"West, where are you going," Gilbert demanded.

"One of us needs to pick the harvest for Grandfather," Ludwig replied over his shoulder before disappearing into the field.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the world gradually grew quiet around him, he started picking all the plump grapes he could see, he enjoyed the work; it was a peaceful solitude. Ever since they arrived in Italy he had wanted to help with the vineyard, longing to go deeper and deeper, to hide himself from the rest of the world.

His grape basket was almost full when a sudden voice broke through his quiet thoughts, he stopped, his hand outstretched to pluck another grape. At first he thought the voice was that of one of Alaric's workers, but then he realized he didn't recognize the voice, and it was singing.

He stood there quietly for a moment, listening, it was a pleasant voice, and obviously Italian. Overwhelmed with a sudden burning curiosity Ludwig started walking toward the voice, wanting to meet the owner of it, he felt strange, he had never wanted something so badly before, but he almost thirsted for it like water.

Ludwig stopped short when he suddenly reached the wall, the wall that kept Beilschmidt land separated from Vargas. Ludwig immediately wanted to turn back, he had met Roma Vargas before, he had been as large and intimating as Alaric and for some reason had it in for his grandfather, and Ludwig had no idea why, Alaric had never told him but even Gilbert caught the hatred between the two men. Until Ludwig knew the full truth he tried not to judge people he didn't know, but at the same time he didn't want to speak to the Vargas, if they were all like Roma they were a bitter, rude kind of people.

He turned to leave when the voice started up again and he nearly jumped, it sounded so close…right next to him, only separated by the wall that was too tall to look over.

Despite everything Ludwig could not help but speak up, "Is-is anyone there?"

Feliciano nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice, "Vee? He looked around, "Did someone say something?"

"Yes," the voice spoke again, it was deep and slightly gruff, it was not Italian, "Over here…hello."

Feliciano broke into smile and grabbed the vines that decorated the wall, "Vee~ ciao!"

Are you harvesting too?" It must be an employee of the Beilschmidt, they certainly couldn't sound so kind and friendly, and Grandpa Roma had no problem with workers.

"Y-yes," Ludwig replied from where he leaned against the wall, taken off guard by the smooth accent that seemed to flow as if this stranger was singing even when he wasn't. It must be a worker of the Vargas family, he could speak with them; they were only making a living. "We are harvesting. Sorry for bothering you but I was wondering…what was that song you were singing?"

"Vee," the voice said back, what an odd sound, "Oh. It's called Keep Holding On, by Avril-something I think…it comes on our radio often."

Feliciano listened to the stranger sigh in a pleasant kind of way, "Ah, it's a pretty song. My brother sings often, he's not good at it thought…" There was a silence, as if the stranger was wondering why he was telling someone he just met this.

Feliciano smiled with delight, "You have a fratello? So do I! Mio fratello actually has a very nice voice, he just hates to sing. But sometimes I can get him to sing with me. Do you like to sing? Um…I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." He chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

Ludwig blinked, slightly bewildered, "Oh, um…Ludwig. It's Ludwig."

The voice spoke again, "Vee~ its' nice to meet you Ludwig!" Suddenly through a crack in the wall and vines he saw a slender hand stick through, clad in a thin, tan torn sleeve. "I'm Feliciano! Feliciano Vargas!"

Ludwig's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. Vargas? No, surely this wasn't a relative of Roma Vargas, this boy sounded far too sweet and kind…and yet, that wasn't the hand of a worker, no it was the soft hand of someone who was privileged. And now that Ludwig thought of it, Alaric had told him Roma had two grandsons as well.

"Pleased to meet you," he finally said, hoping he didn't sound too awkward.