A/N: this chapter focuses mostly on WWII and the immediate aftermath. I'm really trying not to offend people, so please take what I say with a grain of salt.

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Krieger

Part Two: Mein Begleiter

That evening, Ludwig sat quietly in his den long after his meeting had ended, chin resting on his steepled hands. His new boss had taken the introduction to his Nation rather well - better than some had. Some of his ideas were... odd... but he seemed to have the country's best interests in mind.

He glanced down at Krieger, who was lounging on the rug in front of the fire. "What do you think of him?"

Brown eyes shifted up to him, melancholy. Hate.

Ludwig actually gaped at him, blinking in surprise. "You can't hate him. He's our boss now."

Krieger sneezed, his way of saying no. Hate. Anger. Sad. Hurt.

"What, you're picking that up from Adolph?" Ludwig crouched next to the canine, running a hand over the black saddle markings. "Well, his pride was very hurt by Austria, and by that treaty, and his imprisonment. I cannot blame him for being angry."

The sable-and-black tail thumped against the carpet. Worried. Sad.

"Hush," the German soothed, "hush. It'll be alright, Krieger. You'll see."

Krieger sighed and tucked his nose into his belly.

***

Half a decade, and Ludwig wondered if Krieger was right to worry.

War was ravaging Europe again, and there was no one to hide behind this time. And right then, Ludwig was stuck smack in the middle of everyone, trying to fight on two fronts at once.

He was currently calf-deep in snow, facing down a glacially furious Russia who did not appreciate being invaded, thank you very kindly. The whole thing would have been much easier if that blasted general hadn't interfered, again. He was still there, somewhere, lurking behind the Russian giant.

Krieger, ever-present at Ludwig's side, growled as Ivan strode forward. He lunged for the human, and suddenly the Russian's bear materialized from nowhere in his path. It growled too, rearing up and up on its hind legs - gods, it was huge - lifting its paw to strike -

- and then roaring in agony as Helden came screaming out of the sky to dive-bomb its head.

Krieger crouched low and sprang for the bear's throat, toppling the three of them over in a flurry of fur and feathers. Gilbert appeared at Ludwig's elbow, flashing him a feral grin, we-can-take-him fire in his garnet eyes. The two brothers darted forward, knives ringing as they struck Ivan's pipe simultaneously.

The Russian would not, would not give up, and fought with a tenacity that awed Ludwig. He saw, from the corner of his eye, the bear on its back and Krieger savaging its belly, going for the soft flesh. His heart thrilled to the sight, triumph surging in his soul -

- until one massive paw smacked the canine aside, sending him sprawling in the snow with a yelp and a ripple of Pain through their connection.

Ludwig's heart skipped several agonizing beats until he saw Krieger get up, bounding forward to spring snarling at the mammal three times his size. The German narrowly avoided the curved end of the pipe, hearing the metal whiz past his skull, and slashed at Ivan in response. The blade missed flesh but sliced the ivory fabric of his scarf; violet eyes sharpened and narrowed at him.

The bear shook Krieger loose, and as the dog leapt again, its paw slammed into him in midair. That time, there were crimson drops on the snow, and Krieger was limping from a deep gash in his left hind leg.

A rifle report cracked in the frosty air, and Ludwig was so cold he barely registered the pain of being hit. He saw General Winter taking aim again and made a mad dash for his dog, scooping Krieger up in his arms. Whistling for Helden, Gilbert returned just enough fire to cover them while following Ludwig through the snow. They could just hear, over the howling wind, Russia's hysterical laughter and triumphant cry of "And stay out!"

Ludwig gritted his teeth against the pain and kept going, pretending he could not hear the heavy, lumbering gait of the bear following in their tracks.

Far, far too soon, he found himself trapped in his own capital, wincing at every painful beat of his heart. He faced down Ivan and his bear, this time on his own turf, and set his jaw despite the feeling of hopelessness.

The impact of the pipe surprised more than pained him, so weary and weak was he. The second blow really hurt; at the third, he felt at least one rib give way. He heard, somewhere behind him, Italy screaming Felicità as the she-wolf went down under lion's fangs and eagle's talons, heard Krieger snarling at the end of the choke-chain France had around his neck.

Then the Russian bear loomed before him, and he had no time to think. He fired as it reared up - once, twice - and then that tire-sized paw all but flattened him. He struggled to his knees; the bear hit him again, and again, until he stayed down on the cold cobblestones, bleeding and broken and utterly spent.

Dimly, he heard Krieger howling as the darkness closed around him.

***

Ludwig woke in a hospital bed, wrapped in what felt like three pounds of bandages with a cast on his left arm. His chest hurt far too much to be just broken ribs. The room was grey and smelled of medicine and blood; he shut his eyes as though he could close out the ashy taste of death clinging to the sheets.

The ashes locked in his throat, making him choke and cough helplessly. Strong hands supported him, raised him off the pillows, lifted a glass of water to his lips. "Drink," a familiar voice ordered, and the soldier in Ludwig obeyed out of habit.

He blinked muzzily, managing to focus on three faces: England, America, and... some kid that looked like America, but with a little bit of France thrown in. Frowning, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Where...?"

"One of your hospitals," Arthur explained. "We've got a wing blocked off for the Nations who are a bit... worse off. Japan is next door; he's not doing very well."

Alfred looked guilty, and Ludwig thought better of asking for details on that situation. "And... what about me?" he asked hesitantly, visions of massive debt looming over him again.

Not-America adjusted his glasses. "You have heavy scarring on your lungs, probably from the various - ah, camps, scattered across your territory, as well as several broken ribs and a fractured radius from your lesson in bear-wrestling." The humor fell a bit flat, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Um. Alfred has his Marshall Plan, and that-that'll be implemented once you're a little better."

" 'S more than he deserves," the American mutteed.

"Alfred..."

"Don't defend him, Mattie," he spat. "You weren't there. You didn't see Feliks when my boys pulled him out of that hellhole. He cried when I wrapped him in a blanket, because it hurt to be touched." He focused brilliant cobalt eyes on Ludwig. "You'd better hope and pray the judges feel merciful during the trials for war crimes."

"Enough of that."

Four gazes shifted to the doorway, where Francis leaned against the jamb. He was thin and pale, as haggard as Ludwig was sure he looked himself, but a little of the old glint, had returned to his eyes.

Alfred set his jaw. "Francis, you of all people should know - "

"That does not give you or me the right to harangue an injured man, mon cher," the Frenchman pointed out. He spoke to all of them, but his eyes were focused on Ludwig. "After all, holding grudges is what got us here in the first place."

Ludwig lowered his eyes, accepting the silent reprimand and knowing that it, too, was more and less than what he deserved.

Francis let the silence hang for a few moments before toeing the door open. "All right, out. Let the man rest." The three blonds filed out obediently, leaving Ludwig and Francis alone. The Frenchman shot Ludwig a conspiratorial, long-suffering see-what-I-have-to-deal-with smile before pushing himself upright. "By the way," he added, "you have a visitor. Try not to make too much noise~"

A familiar brown head peeked through the door, errant curl bobbing by his face. And, just behind the Italian's boots, Krieger's ears perked at the sight of his companion. Francis ruffled Italy's hair as he left, winking at Ludwig, and that was enough permission for Feliciano.

Krieger was still hurt and had to be lifted to the bed, but the motor in his tail was in fine form. As was his tongue, judging by the amount of attention he was giving Ludwig's face. "Enough of that, you," Ludwig said good-naturedly. "Down."

The canine flopped next to his master, tail thump-thump-thumping the bed. Happy. Mine. Alive. Happy. Happy.

Feliciano curled next to his friend, carefully, content to snuggle and chatter softly about pasta and pretty girls and how Felicità had chewed through his dress socks. Ludwig smiled tolerantly, threading his fingers through ticked fur, and let himself float on the brief feeling of security.

~Fin~

***

NOTES

~Russia's symbol is the Russian bear. Italy's is the Italian wolf (pretty animals).

~"Mein Begleiter" = "my companion".

~The Treaty of Versailles was considered a farce and a humiliation by the Germans (and rightly so). Due in large part to this, France really got nailed hard in WWII.

~Even though the Jews are the ones mostly associated with the Holocaust, other ethnic groups were affected as well - Poles, Gypsies (Roma), Slavs, even Germans. I really strongly recommend visiting the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC at least once. It is very... eye-opening and touching.

~Krieger's two attacks on the bear represent the Battle of Moscow and the Battle of Stalingrad, major events in Operation Barbarossa. Moscow was a big deal because it was the first time the Russians had successfully defended their capital (the Germans took about eight months to get there. The Russian army showed up in mid-November and had completely driven the Germans out by January). Stalingrad was the bloodiest battle in history at that point; the Russians held on even though at one point the Germans controlled 90% of the city. It also marked the turning point of the war on the Eastern Front; after that, it was more of the Russians pursuing the Germans rather than the other way around.

~Next part up in a few days, when school isn't kicking my butt quite so badly. Reviews make a happy authoress~ Thanks for reading!