Whiskey Lullaby

An adaptation of the Whiskey Lullaby CMV by VandettA Cosplay Group

Please see prologue for all disclaimer information.


Chapter 02


Time passed in a strange blur of misery, sleepless nights, and alcohol. Somehow, the passage of days became the passage of a month. It grew hot again in Germany. Elizaveta, who had always enjoyed the outdoors, insisted that they go for walks through town at every opportunity presented to them. Roderich oftentimes lacked the energy to even get out of bed, let alone to tour any part of Germany that reminded him of Gilbert, but he had been raised learning to keep up appearances, and so he very rarely turned her requests down.

This particular day, the sun seemed exceptionally bright and unbearably too hot. Of course, that could be a result of the hangover he was nursing, but it wasn't something Roderich paid much thought to as Elizaveta slipped her arm into his, keeping up a pleasant stream of chatter as they left the plantation and made their way through the streets of the village. Roderich trailed his eyes over the fruit and vegetable stands and observed children laughing and playing in the streets, all with an air of cool disinterest. Once in a while he would nod his head or make some return comment to whatever it was Eliza was saying, though it seemed to take more of his energy than usual to do so. There was something about summer that he found strangely unnerving, though his head felt too heavy and his cognition too sluggish to recall exactly why that was. It was something important, something deep and impacting and painful, something that danced just at the edge of his coherency, waving a flag that screamed 'here I am, here is the answer, try just a little harder to reach it…'

It was when Elizaveta led him out to the pier overlooking the lake and directed him to sit down and relax that it came to him. It hadn't been all that long, not if he really stopped to measure the true length of a human life in comparison to the history of the earth, but it felt as though it had been eons ago. A memory very much like the whisper of church bells on the wind; clear and concise if one was open to it, but easily missed if distracted.

"… Roderich… I'm concerned about you. It's been a month, but you have yet to even start to come out of your depression. You haven't touched your piano. You barely eat, and you've lost the weight to prove it. I understand that he was your best friend, and you cared for him deeply, but Gilbert would not want you to suffer this way."

He bit down on his lip to keep from laughing. It would not, of course, be a mirthful laugh. Her kindness and straightforward attempts at addressing his ever-mounting depression were sweet, but completely incorrect and profoundly ineffective. Allowing her to console him was much the same as giving a color-blind man a paintbrush and telling him to capture the colors of the rainbow on his canvas. She was completely blind to everything that had transpired between them. Their passion had been red, and she could see only blue.

Roderich would like to say that he could at least believe that Gilbert would not want him to suffer, but even that was something he could not confirm with complete confidence. No matter his motivations, what he had done to the man he loved could be called nothing if not betrayal. A knife straight to the back would have most likely been more pleasant than a letter comprised of five of the cruelest words in existence.

If, by some miracle, Gilbert did not want Roderich to suffer, Roderich himself was more than glad to take up that torch instead. If, by chance, his suffering were to alleviate his guilt, that would be the only point in which he would wish for that suffering to stop. He was reaping what he had laid in the earth, and he had no one to blame but himself for that.

Somehow, even though he felt he had no energy left to do so, he afforded her the weakest of smiles, reaching out to take her hand in his own, running his slender fingers over her knuckles.

"He was my very best friend, Eliza. Our time was short, and life is cruel to have done this to us all. I can only pray he has found himself in a better place than here, if this life was so miserable that he felt he had to cut it short by his own hand."

"Death is always hardest for those left behind. Gilbert was a good and God-fearing man. I'm sure he is preparing a place in Heaven for us all."

She directed her gaze away from him and instead focused it on the placid waters of the lake, and Roderich took this stolen moment to wipe at the tears that were rapidly forming in his eyes before they had a chance to slide down his face. It was a quiet day, bright and crystal clear, and if he strained his ears just hard enough, he could hear the echoes of days come and gone in the air. Intimate, private words, spoken on this very pier. The sound of laughter and the splashing of water. Being sucked into a moment so exclusive and so secretive that he felt like a mortal being accepted into the ranks of the Gods themselves.

"… take me home, Eliza. I wish to go home now. I'm not feeling too well today."

"All you ever do is stay inside, Roderich. You'll catch your death, if you don't start getting more sunlight."

Roderich wasn't sure what he found more painful; the fact that she had noticed his withdrawal from the world around him, or the realization that catching his death may not be so bad after all. At the very least, if he were dead, perhaps he would have the chance to see Gilbert again. The chance to explain his actions. The chance to apologize, even if his apology wasn't accepted.

"… please, Eliza. I want to go home."

She looked as though she wanted to say more, but had decided it was a fight not worth engaging in. Instead she rose to her feet and put her hand out to him, a silent invitation to help him up. The afternoon sun caught the smooth, flawless metal of her wedding band and Roderich choked on a sob, barely able to cover it up as a cough before he struggled to his feet, declining her assistance with a muttered apology.

"I don't like the sound of that cough. I think I may call for the doctor, when we arrive home."

It would be a waste of her time and her money, but Roderich did not object. She could call whoever she wanted, so long as she took him away from the pier. On instinct he bowed his elbow and she slipped her arm into the crook, smiling up at him comfortingly as she began to direct his footsteps back to the stability of land.

The ghosts of the past followed.


Gilbert,

I miss you of all my heart.

This week I'll be away Augsburg, maybe it would be fitting to see you once I'm there, what do you say? I'll be there from the 5th to the 17th, I'm sure you'll find the time. If you don't then that's fine.

I've been looking for jobs nearby, I might find something closer to you.

I guess that's all I have to say on the matter.

Until we meet again,

Roderich


"… a picnic?"

"Why not? It's a nice day out. Don't tell me you're allergic to sunlight, Little Master."

"Why do you insist on calling me that?"

Gilbert laughed and turned away from where he was busy hammering away at a plank of wood, fixing a bright-eyed smile on Roderich that made him smile in kind.

"Well, it's what you are, isn't it? So what do you say? You, me, and a picnic? We can go out on the pier, maybe do a little fishing. I'll even be nice enough to dig the worms out for you, so you don't get your dainty hands dirty."

Roderich paused and bit his lip, kneading the soft flesh between his teeth. He had made an impromptu trip out to see Elizaveta (or so was his excuse, much to his father's joy) under the guise of looking for work in Germany. Only Gilbert and he knew the real reason for his visit, but that did not clear him of his duties of entertaining his hostess. They were set to have lunch together at a café in town, and he found himself wondering how he could get out of the obligation. Surely he could find some excuse, but would it be strong enough to be believable?

"I have prior obligations, Gilbert. You know that. What am I to tell Elizaveta?"

"That spending time with me is more important?"

"Gilbert! You know that she would find that highly improper!"

"I would find what highly improper?"

Both men turned at the sound of Eliza's voice, finding her standing in the doorway to the barn. She nodded to Gilbert and gave him a smile, which he returned with a slight nod of his head and a frown, before she turned her attentions on Roderich.

"I came down to tell you that I must cancel our lunch engagement. I'm very sorry, but one of father's business associates has arrived unexpectedly, and he wishes for me to attend a formal lunch here at home. He has invited you as well, but I fear that it would be extremely awkward and boring for you. If you would rather not, we would both understand."

Her timing could not be more perfect. An excuse has been needed, and an excuse had seemingly walked it way right into the barn and settled itself quite comfortably in his lap. He felt guilty for thinking it, but he was quite thankful that their lunch engagement was now canceled and his day was free.

"I appreciate the invitation, but I agree with your fears. It will be much better if I am not present at your father's formal meeting. After all, I am a stranger, and I should not be privy to any form of discussion between your father and such an important associate. I will procure lunch for myself, and we will plan to dine together tonight and enjoy lunch at the café tomorrow. We have time, after all."

Elizaveta nodded, but Roderich did not miss the flash of disappointment that crossed briefly over her face.

"What will you do for lunch today? Surely you will not dine alone; you do not know the town, and I fear you getting lost as you did the last time you were here."

A bright blush engulfed Roderich's face at the memory of his first private meeting with Gilbert. To this day, he could not recall exactly what had transpired that night. It was clear that something had happened, but he had not awoken the next day with any form of aches and pains or stiffness that would imply that things had gone that far. Still, the memory of Gilbert's arms enfolded around him and the rumble of his voice in his chest against Roderich's ear danced in the Austrian's thoughts, and his skin tingled and burned with the sudden need for that contact.

"I'll take him out and show him the town. Maybe we'll go sit down by the lake and have lunch there, since it's not too hot today. Of course, that's provided someone packs us a picnic. And I'm allowed to leave halfway through my work day."

Gilbert's smile was loose and friendly when both Roderich and Elizaveta turned to look at him. A bright grin passed over Eliza's face and she nodded her approval, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Wonderful! I would be more than glad to relieve you from work for the day, if you'll do the honors of showing our guest around town! I'll have Helga pack you a lunch immediately, and I'll make sure father knows to pay you for the entire day."

She turned with a flourish, her long skirt billowing behind her as she headed back up towards the main house. Roderich watched her go and then turned his narrowed eyes on Gilbert, who grinned with all the triumph of the cat who has cornered the mouse.

"Well, then. It looks as though it is decided for us."

"Not quite. I have my own stipulations for the day, Herr Beilschmidt."

The smile dropped slightly from Gilbert's face, but he nodded and set his hammer down, starting to peel his work gloves from his hands.

"Let's hear it, then."

Roderich smiled and reached into the large satchel he was carrying, extracting a brand-new camera from within. Gilbert's eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped open, his eyes darting from Roderich's face to the offending object in his hands.

"Where did you get that? It must have cost a fortune!"

"It was not the cheapest thing I have ever purchased, that's for sure. My train arrived early yesterday and while I was waiting for Eliza to arrive to pick me up, I took a moment to view some of the market shops. There was a kind Italian boy who gave me all the details about it and sold it to me straightaway along with the proper film. He says it's a Bencini Comet S, though of course that means nothing to me. Up until now, I've never had need of a camera."

He carefully removed the cap and fiddled with a few of the settings, finally lifting it up and looking through the view window at Gilbert.

"Five pictures for an afternoon picnic. I feel that is fair."

Gilbert frowned and shook his head, putting his hand up to block Roderich's view of his face.

"No deal. I hate having my picture taken. It's a waste of time."

"… I do not get to see you very often, Gilbert. I am looking for work in Germany, but right now I am bound to Austria. I have nothing of you but a few letters. This is important to me, so please allow me to do this."

Roderich's voice was soft and lacked all of its usual haughtiness and natural authority, and Gilbert sighed and groaned, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Fine. One picture. Only one!"

"… but I want more than one…"

Now Roderich's tone was playful, and Gilbert felt something warm and pleasant birth itself in his stomach and start to spread through his body, slowly working out the anxiety that had arisen when the Austrian had produced the camera.

"One picture for a picnic sounds fair. Unless you have something else to barter with."

They were toeing a dangerous line, being so flirtatious in such an open place, but Gilbert found that he didn't care. The day was calm and quiet, and most of the house staff was busy entertaining their unexpected guest. They were alone down here, and if they were careful enough, they could play a little game before their lunch arrived and they left for the lake.

Roderich peeked out at him from behind the camera, allowing the bulky item to hide his face as he walked in slow, measured steps towards Gilbert. When he was so close that their noses could nearly touch, he lowered the camera down and held it at his side in his left hand. His eyes darted briefly to the barn door, and then he leaned forward and brushed his lips, ever so softly, against the soft flesh at Gilbert's throat.

"Four pictures, then. Four is fair."

"Mmm. No. Two. One for the picnic, and one for that little kiss. Two pictures, Roderich."

Roderich loved it when Gilbert used his real name. He had never liked the sound of it, mainly because he felt it was uptight and prudish. His upbringing had already dictated that he had no choice but to act the noble that he was, but that did not mean he took pleasure in it. If he had his own way, he would be free to speak his mind and live his life as free as Gilbert did. When Gilbert spoke his name, especially in a low, deep, husky tone, it made him feel special. It made him feel as though his name was beautiful. In a way, it made him feel as though he was completely, undeniably free.

He licked his lips to moisten them and then leaned forward once more, making just the slightest of contact with Gilbert's mouth. His lips lingered there, barely moving, as his free hand lifted from his side and placed itself at the Prussia's inner thigh, gently stroking over the well-muscles flesh through his work jeans. Gilbert shuddered under his touch and groaned out his approval, and Roderich gave his leg a firm squeeze before pulling away.

"… three."

Gilbert was breathless and at a complete loss for words, as was evident by the blush across his pale face and the way his chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled for air.

"Okay. Three."

Grinning victoriously, Roderich stepped away from his companion just as Helga, the kitchen servant, appeared in the doorway with a woven picnic basket clutched in her meaty hand. Roderich thanked her kindly and took the bulging basket from her, waiting until she had turned and disappeared before he directed his gaze back on Gilbert.

"You do realize, of course, that I get to pick the poses."


"If you fall in, I'm not jumping in to save you. Were you never taught that swimming so soon after eating can cause cramps?"

"We ate nearly two hours ago."

Had it really been that long? Roderich had lost track of the time once they arrived out at the lake and had settled themselves down on the pier to enjoy a meal of wurst, potatoes, yeast rolls and cherry pie. There had also been a large glass tumbler filled with water and a much smaller tumbler with brandy, and they had eaten to the bursting point before rolling up the legs of their pants and stretching out across the solid wood to allow their meals to digest and their heads to settle. It was only recently that Gilbert had come upon an unexplainable burst of energy and had risen to his feet, using the edge of the dock as a balancing beam as he walking back and forth, arms struck out like the wings of an airplane.

"We've also been drinking."

Gilbert laughed, even as he swayed slightly, one foot coming halfway off the wood before he was able to find his balance and place his full weight on it once more.

"I can hold my liquor, Little Master. I don't know what pussy drinks they serve in Austria, but we drink the good stuff here. Puts hair on your chest."

"Gilbert! Language! Must you always be such an uncultured clod?"

Roderich's reaction only made Gilbert laugh harder, and the musician struggled into a sloppy sitting position on the edge of the dock so he could glance at Gilbert over his shoulder.

"I'm serious! There is absolutely nothing about that language that is appropriate!"

"Come off it, Roderich. You're not having lunch with some stuffy noble, and you certainly aren't dressed to the nines. You have your fucking pantlegs rolled up, your shirt has dirt on it, and you just ate a traditional German lunch out by a lake. There's no need to act like everything is a crime. You're with me; you're free here."

Roderich turned away before Gilbert could see the look of shock that rolled across his features. He had never expressed how being around the Prussian made him feel unbridled and unchained, so how was it that Gilbert seemed to instinctively know what it was he needed to hear?

There was a loud splash behind him, and it took Roderich a moment to register that the only thing that could have made the noise was Gilbert. He turned over his shoulder, finding the edge of the dock empty save for their picnic basket, and instinctively he pivoted on his hip and found himself on his knees, leaning over the edge as his eyes scanned the murky waters for some sign of his companion.

"Oh God… Gilbert?!"

He looked further out in the water, towards the water's edge, and completely missed Gilbert's head as it poked back out from under the dock. Only when a hand circled his wrist and pulled did he realize he'd been fooled, and the scream of shock that escaped his lips was instantly muted as his gravity shifted and he tumbled, head-first, into the lake. Despite it being a hot day in Germany, the water was frigid and Roderich struggled to the surface, gasping for air as his teeth chattered and his arms swelled with goose bumps.

"You idiot!"

He tried to make his words sound as annoyed as he felt, but Gilbert's peals of laughter immediately broke down and blew away any discontentment he may feel, and he flicked his hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head before using the motion of his legs to keep him afloat as he delivered swift retaliation in the form of a well-directed cascade of water. Gilbert immediately responded in kind, and for several minutes the calm of the afternoon was broken by laughter, well-intended playful insults, and the sound of splashing water.

When finally they wore themselves out and called a truce, Gilbert swam to the rickety ladder and hoisted himself halfway out of the water, turning back and reaching his hand out to Roderich. The Austrian paddled over and immediately took the outstretched hand, gasping when he was pulled up next to Gilbert and suddenly their lips were connected, the kiss hot and fast and perhaps just a little sloppy.

"… Gilbert… someone might see…"

"Let them look. I don't care what they think of us."

Even as he spoke, Gilbert drew away from him and then motioned for him to climb up the ladder first. Once they were on the dock and lying out in the sun, allowing the heat to dry their soaked clothes, Gilbert lolled his head to the side so he could give Roderich a smile.

"Come see me. Tonight, in the barn. If you sneak out the back kitchen door, no one will be the wiser. Come after midnight."

Roderich felt that he sound say no. It was too close to home, too close to where they could be caught. But one look in those tantalizing red eyes, one well-placed grin, and his heart melted into Gilbert's waiting hands.

"Okay."


The pictures had come out better than expected. As promised, Gilbert had posed for all three of them to Roderich's liking before they had made their journey to the lake. It was the 19th, and even though they had somehow managed to steal several nights during the course of his nearly two-week journey, it felt as though they had not seen each other in years. Roderich's skin burned with a strange need for Gilbert's touch, and the pictures were a poor (but appreciated) substitute for the warmth of his lover's arms.

The third picture was by far his favorite. Gilbert stood posed with one hand on a work shelf and the other crooked back near his shoulder, hammer at the ready as though he had been interrupted in the middle of a very important task. His arms were caked with dirt from the barn, his shirt hugged his muscled frame, and a half-smile decorated his face as his eyes peered out from behind the stray strands of hair falling in his face. Around his waist was tied a black summer jacket, and Roderich reached over into his suitcase to extract that very same jacket, cradling it against his chest as he buried his face into the soft material. It smelled of a lovely mesh of straw, horse, earth, and Gilbert. It brought back memories of a warm summer night, of stolen kisses and forbidden caresses in a quiet corner of the barn, and Roderich clenched his fingers in the soft material as tears of longing sprang into his eyes.

"… what are you doing to me, Gilbert?"

Forcing himself to brush the tears away, he set the jacket aside and picked up the other two pictures, looking them over. Gilbert was very photogenic, and made his work look as natural as breathing in the black-and-white still frames Roderich held in his hands. Gilbert, face smudged with dirt, carrying a load of lumber over his shoulder. Gilbert, leaning against a work ladder, hammer slung over his shoulder like a satchel, ever-present cocky grin stretching ear to ear.

Gilbert, who Roderich very much so feared he was falling ever deeper in love with.

It was late, and Roderich was tired. Today had been filled with catching up on work, practicing the piano, and entertaining his father's houseguests. His body and mind were here, but his heart and soul were back in Germany. It left him feeling drained, weary, and crushingly lonely. He tucked two of the pictures away amongst his sheet music and rose to his feet, quickly shedding his cravat, dress jacket and shirt, and pants. After carefully folding them and putting them away, he slipped into his night clothes and moved to the bed, pulling the covers back. The plush white sheets and fluffed pillows were in way inviting in comparison to the idea of a rough straw bed in a barn loft, but perhaps there was one way to make his sleeping arrangements more bearable, if only slightly.

Five minutes later, the lights were out and Roderich was curled up under the covers with Gilbert's picture clutched in his hand. Gilbert's black jacket had fit perfectly over one of his many pillows and he curled his arms around it, tucked his knees up against his chest, and allowed the alluring smell of his lover to lull him to sleep.


TBC


A.N. There may be a possibility that I will have to condense down another two scenes into one chapter, meaning there may be a chapter in which there will be two letters and two scenes from VandettA's CMV, giving us seven chapters rather than eight. I have not decided as of yet what I'm going to do, but rest assured that I will fit nearly every second of the video into this story.

Thanks for reading, thanks for your patience, and I'll have the next chapter done soon!