Ludwig collapsed on his improvised bed next to his brother, completely worn out. Gilbert didn't even look up from cleaning his gun. It was his form of relaxing in the evening, making sure all the parts were in perfect condition. Ludwig couldn't count how many times he'd returned and it had taken Gilbert a good few minutes to actually notice him, occasionally scaring him enough that he fell off his cot.
"You look like total shit today. What happened?" Gilbert sighed, taking a rare glance up from his gun. He too looked tired, dark circles under his red eyes.
"My battalion went up to the French front today. That bastard shot up almost all of us. He's trying to take Stuttgart all by himself. Don't know what happened to his little ally Spain, he seems to have gone home." Ludwig held his head, rubbing his temples to try and erase the headache that seemed to constantly follow him. "I can't believe they'd both side with Poland." Ludwig took off his own faithful rifle, handing it to Gilbert in hopes his brother would clean it. He really didn't feel like doing any sort of physical effort after being chased by the French army through a muddied battlefield.
"I'm not going to clean it for you just because your day sucked. Who cares if Francy-Pants whooped your ass? Not me, that's for sure. Do it yourself," Gilbert snapped, handing the rifle and an oiling rag to Ludwig.
Ludwig snatched the rag from his hand, taking his HK417 back. "You didn't have to be so rude."
A long period of silence between the two followed, filled only with the distant gunfire. Ludwig worked calmly on his gun, not even bothering to look at his brother. The click of machinery made a sort of rhythm Ludwig fell into, completely spacing out. He snapped back to reality when Gilbert cleared his throat, finally breaking the quiet between the two.
"I saw Roderich and Elizabeta today," He said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ludwig examined the trigger on his gun. "And how were they?"
Gilbert paused, going back to work on his rifle. Ludwig turned to look him in the eye, getting quite irritated with his brother. "I asked how they were. I expect an answer."
Gilbert took a shaky breath, as if he could fall apart any second. "They were being marched off to camp by Feliks on a path near the border. Hundreds of Austrian and Hungarian soldiers were following them. We couldn't shoot because those damn Poles guarded the captives like they were the crown jewels or something. As for Roderich, he looked pretty bad. He was carrying Elizabeta on his back, who looked God awful. Hell, she looked pretty much dead."
At this point, Gilbert was trying hard not to melt. It was no secret to Ludwig that he had an eye for Elizabeta. That was one of the reasons he hated Roderich so much, other than the two being polar opposites. He bit his lip, blinking back tears. "Feliks caught a glimpse of me as we went back to camp. Said he's coming after Germany next, and we better hide our sorry asses before we get dragged off to Szczecin."
Ludwig was now struggling to keep his own stern face. Feliks had become quite notorious for his POW camps. They were designed them after the concentration camps in WWII, the ones Ludwig still had nightmares about. And now he was threatening to lock Ludwig away in the largest known one, Bolesność, literally the word pain in Polish.
Normally, Ludwig wouldn't be this terrified of Feliks. He could easily have the Polish brat on the ground begging for mercy. But he had teamed up with the Baltics, and they were literally unstoppable. After bringing down several armies, dragging the captives off to camps and beating them senseless, they were infamously heartless. The prisoners were forced to work all day, building things to use against their own nations. They were fed almost nothing. One lieutenant even heard the prisoners in Bolesność were turning on each other for food, a few going as far as cannibalism.
Feliks and the Baltics had brought down several nearby nations, gathering lots of prisoners. But their biggest victory by far was Russia. Not the entire country, but rather Ivan himself. He was being held in Bolesność, yet no one was trying to retrieve him. The country wasn't trying to get Ivan back, as he wasn't deemed important enough to use their military force to go after. He was seen as a disgrace to his country for giving in so easily, letting Toris and Feliks drag him away. His country was now focused on trampling China and Mongolia, leaving Ivan all alone in Poland. It was discouraging to hear of a country abandoning their representative only to go fight one of the representative's only friends. Feliks probably got a kick out of that, knowing how much he despised Ivan.
But, if Feliks could take down Ivan, Ludwig would be pathetically easy.
"Hey, don't psyche yourself out," Gilbert smiled, sensing how scared Ludwig truly was. He could always see through Ludwig's façade, even when Ludwig had somewhat convinced himself he wasn't scared. "That stupid little blond doesn't stand a chance against us. Roderich, well, he's a different story. He gets tired just thinking about work." Gilbert laughed a bit at his own joke, running a hand through his white hair that stuck up at several different angles.
Ludwig stared outside of their shared tent, his heart racing. "But Feliks has taken me down before. And he was only with Toris that time. What about with Eduard and Raivis?"
Gilbert came over and sat on Ludwig's bed, pulling him close like he used to do when his brother was young. "Nothing's going to happen, okay? We'll be fine as long as we have each other."
"Day 362," Gilbert announced loudly. "Almost two months since Feliks said he was going to attack us. Guess that douchebag was too afraid to come after the awesome me!" He laughed, scribbling furiously in a brand new leather journal a guard had bought him for his birthday.
Ludwig rolled over, a scowl on his face. Gilbert didn't notice, carrying on with his writing. "It's the middle of the night. Is that ever an acceptable time to be writing your diary entries?"
Gilbert stopped for a second and rolled his eyes, groaning like a dying cow. "Of course it is. When else would I have the time?" He turned back to his writing. "Sharing a tent with your little brother is not recommended. Grumpy the Crapwad hates late night entries."
"For a good reason too," Ludwig yawned. "And is that your new name for me? Grumpy the Crapwad? Real mature, Gilbert."
"Always have been," Gilbert nodded. "Love, Gilbert. P.S, I am awesome!" He exclaimed, slamming the diary shut dramatically.
"Are you done now?" Ludwig asked, hoping he could sleep again without a loud recap of the day.
"Yeah. Good night, Grumpy." Gilbert put his diary back under his pillow, pulling his covers over his head.
"Good night." Ludwig echoed.
Ludwig lay awake for a long time in the darkness. He kept trying to force himself to go back to sleep, but that wasn't working. Now that he had the chance to sleep, his body refused to. Just wonderful.
So Ludwig got up, threw on his boots and overcoat, and walked outside of the stuffy tent. The mandatory guard stood outside, looking quite tired. Ludwig wished he didn't have to be babysat all the time, but if he was going to fight in the war he was required to have at least one person watching him. Gilbert had a guard too, but he wasn't anywhere to be found at the moment. For a second Ludwig considered asking his guard where Gilbert's had gone, but he didn't want to try and make awkward small talk.
For the first time in a long while, he could gaze at the stars freely without the threat of being bombed. Just today they had finally destroyed the French air force, removing the skies of their noisy planes. The advancing Polish force had been pushed back enough that the main area being fought over was Leipzig. Ludwig hadn't seen the night sky in so long; he'd forgotten just how peaceful nights could be without the roar of machine guns or whistling of mortar fire. Berlin was finally quiet again, if only for a few short hours.
Even in the midst of World War Three, the skies above Germany were beautiful. An almost full moon floated in the inky sea of stars, illuminating the large camp. A cold winter wind blew across the open field, sending dried leaves everywhere. It truly was a picturesque night, save for the bloodied battlefields on the western side of the city.
Ludwig found himself wishing he could escape to somewhere else, instead of waiting for someone to make the first move in the outskirts of Berlin. He used to be stationed in Mannheim, but he had gotten moved when the higher ups figured that he would be much safer in Berlin. It made very little sense to Ludwig, how being closer to the enemy was considered safe. Although, Berlin was heavily guarded, much more so than Mannheim, so that might have been part of it. And If worst came to worst, the city still wouldn't get hit as hard as Leipzig, the military's new central base. Hopefully, Feliks would try to go to Leipzig first and completely forget about Berlin.
Both Feliks' team and Francis were encroaching on Leipzig, making him feel trapped in the middle. Francis was making constant threats that most likely would never happen, while Feliks' group was silently encroaching on the east side. France wasn't presenting much of a danger after being so easily pushed back, but Poland was preparing to launch an attack any day now. A large portion of Germany's group troops were fighting back Poland in Leipzig, leaving Berlin open. If the French and the Spaniards suddenly broke through the west lines and Feliks came in from the east, everything would be over in a heartbeat.
"Hey Gil?" Ludwig called, poking his head back into the tent. Ludwig wanted someone to talk to about this fear that was growing inside of him, someone he could trust to keep everything secret.
Sadly, that someone was fast asleep.
Ludwig sighed, holding his head. He might as well make the best of this moment of solitude, without an obnoxious Prussian.
And so he stood in the rarely heard quiet of the night, trying not to make eye contact with his guard. It was strange to have a time without mortar fire or gunshots. He'd become so accustomed to the sounds of warfare that the night seemed strange and almost terrifying without them. It was so scary to have peace, as it usually meant something horrible was bound to happen. Then he started to think of how much Feliciano loved to have a quiet night during warfare. Soon all he was thinking about was the happy Italian, remembering how much he annoyed Ludwig but also made him laugh harder than anyone he knew. Ludwig gave a tiny smile at the thought of Feliciano, doing something that threw the guard off completely.
He looked up at the stars and folded his hands, the words easily coming to mind.
For the first time in a long while, Ludwig found himself praying. He'd never really been one for praying and religious things like that, but he'd picked it up when he was with Feliciano in Africa. The Italian used to pray almost every night, asking for silly things like pasta, cute girls, or for England to give up. But Ludwig's prayer was much different than those Feliciano had made on those miserably hot nights. It wasn't anything formal, just a silent cry for help. Centuries ago when Gilbert used to drag him to churches on Sunday mornings, the young Ludwig had the old prayers memorized and would have to recite them begrudgingly. Now he was just making things up as he went. He asked for his forces to have the strength to fend off whoever got here first, guessing it would be Poland. He asked for his brother and Feliciano to stay safe, especially Feliciano. He prayed for the war to end, the one that had already claimed so many lives in such a short time.
Germany been fighting for almost a year now, yet he entered it two years later than most countries. The casualties were way too high for only a year of fighting, the numbers already up in the hundred thousand range.
It had all started with the people, fighting over beliefs, rioting against their government's decisions. It was almost humorous how the people would ask for something and then riot against it when it finally happened. At first, the nations thought it would pass. The same things had happened thousands of times, and the people eventually got over it. People were strange things, as they didn't have the wisdom one gets from hundreds of years of life.
Then the nations started lashing out at each other, laughing at the other's citizens. It had started at a world meeting, with Francis and Arthur, as always. Then Alfred and Ivan got in on the act, along with Yao and Lovino. Of course the countries fought back, defending their people. Before long, everyone had been drawn into the arguing by another.
Soon Alfred and Ivan started up the whole Cold War again, acting like kindergarteners fighting over who had the better toy. Only they weren't fighting about cars and superheroes, but nuclear weapons. World meetings became more hellish than they were before, the two screaming insults across the table. Each time the two would see each other, it was always "I have this, do you have something as good as it?"
Then Alfred dropped a bomb in a remote part of Russia, and it was all downhill from there.
No one really knew why he did it. The Americans wouldn't tell anyone anything. It had killed very few people, so it wasn't meant to harm Russia, but rather scare them. All Alfred would tell them was that Ivan deserved it, and leave it at that. Rumors were going around that it was revenge for an American ambassador killed in Moscow, or that it was a mistake, an accidentally launched nuclear missile set for the barren edges of Russia. Neither of the two made sense, as one life wasn't anything to start nuclear warfare about, and you can't "accidentally" launch a missile.
Either way, Ivan was reasonably upset about a bit of his country disappearing in a flash. And he was going to get his revenge by starting to take back countries that were communist or part of the Soviet Union. Suddenly Georgia and Kazakhstan disappeared from the map. All of Western Europe was terrified or being taken over by now, trying to prevent a relapse of the Soviet Union.
Poland and Lithuania got quite scared Russia was going to try and come after them again, so they formed a pact with Estonia and Latvia. America quickly sided with the group, sending their troops almost immediately after learning of them. Then, the Baltics and Feliks realized that while everyone was focused on preventing an all-out nuclear war between America and Russia they could climb back to the empire they used to be. Poland and Lithuania officially became the Empire of Poland-Lithuania, restoring the glory the two once had. The Empire was allied with most of Europe, save for the few countries that could actually see the power hungry group trying to act like they weren't taking over Europe. Of course most countries would side with them, as the Empire was working more behind the scenes than Russia. They claimed the POW camps weren't miniature concentration camps, or that they weren't killing thousands every day.
The world had changed so much it was hard for Ludwig to think of a time when everyone had at least tolerated each other. He almost missed the hectic world meetings, even if they usually didn't resolve anything. He missed having Feliciano and Kiku around, or being able to talk to another nation without the threat of being shot.
Just a few weeks ago, he and Feliciano agreed to meet up in Munich, just to talk again. The whole car ride there he was ecstatic, bearing a rare smile. He was even allowed to talk to him without the guard by his side, but having several snipers and guards watching from a safe distance. When he arrived at the agreed rendezvous point, instead of finding Feliciano happily waiting for him, Ludwig found himself staring down a gun barrel.
"I'm so sorry, Luddy," The Italian sobbed, hands wavering. "My boss wants me to kill you. He thinks you're too big of a threat to me, and you're only pretending to be my friend because you want to take advantage of Italy."
Ludwig immediately panicked. Why was he doing this, if they were both against the Empire of Poland-Lithuania? He searched his friend for any sign that he was joking, but there was only sadness in his amber eyes. The guards and snipers had been ordered to shoot Feliciano only if Ludwig gave him the signal. If they shot on their own accord, Ludwig had promised to kill each one of them with his bare hands. And he wasn't about to watch Feliciano get shot up, so he tried to talk some sense into his friend. Feliciano told him he would never shoot, begging Ludwig to kill him instead. In the end neither of the two could hurt each other, so they ended their meeting with a hug and a vague promise that they would see each other again in happier times. Ludwig climbed back into the armored car with his heart in a thousand pieces and the warmth of Feliciano's hug fading away.
Now what had happened to Feliciano? He had to of been punished, letting Ludwig get away like that. But was he fighting or safe with his brother? Or even worse than any of those horrors, imprisoned in a camp? Surely he wasn't rotting in Bolesność, was he? He couldn't be. Ludwig suddenly got the horrid image of Feliciano with hollow eyes and ribs jutting out.
Ludwig shook his head, trying to clear that from his mind. Feliciano had to be safe. There was no other option. He shivered a bit at the thought of this, surprised at how cold it had become. Winter couldn't be that close, could it? Pulling his coat a bit closer, he strode back into the tent after giving his guard a quiet salute. Taking off his boots, he crawled back into the warmth of his bed, too tired to even bother to remove his coat.
He hadn't been in the fluffy blankets for more than a minute when the air raid sirens began wailing.
"Mr. Germany!" One of the commanders shouted, throwing open the tent flap. "Poland is here! Prepare your troops immediately!"
Why, of all the times to attack, he chooses now? Ludwig thought, slowly getting out of bed. Couldn't he wait 'til morning? What sort of dummkopf attacks at night?
Oh, wait. I do.
"Yes, sir!" Ludwig stood up, saluting him. The commanding officer looked over Ludwig with suspicious eyes, wondering why the German was wearing a coat in bed, then turned and left without a word. Ludwig grabbed his gun and put on his stern face, pulling on his boots that were just taken off a minute ago. With only a couple of nudges to wake up the still sleeping Gilbert, Ludwig went off to assemble his battalion.
"Attention, 413th Battalion!" He barked. Most of the soldiers were already awake, moving about the tents. They instantly fell into place, saluting Ludwig.
"Poland is attacking as we speak! I want you to come in from the left, cutting off the rear formations. Have I made myself clear?!" He said, looking over each man before him. Some of them were quite young, still oblivious to the horrors of war. It made him worried just how well they could hold off an attack. Much of the new kids that had arrived in the past weeks looked much younger than eighteen, like teenagers trying to aim a HK417 and carry a pack almost as heavy as some of themselves.
The soldiers saluted once again. "Yes, sir!"
They began rushing about, grabbing weapons and helmets. Ludwig made sure his own rifle was strapped securely to him, praying for the second time that night for the strength to fight Feliks.
As for the 413th Battalion, they were ready to go.
While Ludwig led his troops towards the echoing gunfire, he couldn't help but panic. It always happened to him right before any sort of battle, a brief wave of fright that completely overtook him. Usually he could get over it in a few seconds, but now the fear had formed a knot in his stomach. He tried to keep a straight face, but he knew by the end of this fight most of them would be dead or captured. Maybe, by some slim miracle, they could actually defeat Poland.
Then he remembered just how many troops were still fighting in Leipzig. If everyone was here, they could easily tackle Poland. But as of right now, Poland outnumbered the soldiers in Berlin four to one.
Gilbert came up to Ludwig, his battalion following close behind. "The commander says we should stick together," He said with an obviously faked smile. "Thinks we'll fight better together, you know, being brothers and all."
Ludwig glanced at Gilbert. He could see the fear in his brother's ruby eyes, as he knew too this was likely going to end in defeat. There was a tiny chance Poland was weaker than they thought, and it was growing smaller each minute as they neared the gunfire.
"Fine," Ludwig choked, trying not to imagine himself in Bolesność.
A/N: This is possibly the longest chapter in the whole story. It was a complete pain in the neck to write, but here it is!
Oh boy, things are going to get very interesting soon. I have so many new plans for this story, it barely resembles the prototype.
A tiny side note:
HK417- A German military rifle mostly used by the front line troops. Looks pretty cool, and even cooler if you imagine Ludwig and Gilbert wielding them.
