He'd been 10 before, and the world had been a lovely place.
Prussia had a silky charm when he was focused upon diplomacy, and under his new boss's orders he managed to successfully isolate France with treaties instead of going to yet another war. It had been a satisfying 'fuck you' for all of the problems that France had caused over the years. And, as France whined and sat alone, Prussia had brought Germany along in relishing the alliances they could enjoy because of his verbal skills.
Germany found that his brother was an entirely different person when his battle injuries were allowed to heal, and when he was content with himself rather than high on adrenaline from a successful slaughter. He was as docile as Germany had ever seen him, and actually happy.
At least, outwardly.
Inwardly, Prussia had issues that Germany hadn't been able to see. That Germany was disgusted with himself that he hadn't been able to see; especially over so long. He'd just focused on enjoying hearing real laughs and attending dinners, he hadn't paused for a second to think that maybe, just maybe, something was very wrong.
He turned 14, and Prussia had a bit of a cold. Their old boss was assassinated, he said, and change was going to happen. He certainly hoped that Germany had been paying attention before, because things were about to get exceedingly interesting.
Prussia gave his brother a leg-up onto his horse, and asked him: what had he been told about allies?
Allies were fleeting, Germany repeated, and weren't to be trusted very far.
Prussia nodded in approval as he climbed aboard his own horse. He said that he certainly hoped that Germany had been following the lesson as well as he recited it, because if he had been he was an actor of the finest caliber.
He said that with a smile that was made of nothing but mock approval. Germany shrunk down as he realized exactly how easily his brother had him figured out.
Prussia told him that getting too close was going to be his downfall, he guaranteed that. Someday, somewhere, it was going to crush him.
Germany wanted to disagree, because they had been so happy, and it had been so nice to be so happy, when they were with others. He damn well knew better, though, than to do so when his brother was in a mode of lecture where he refused to even look over.
As had essentially become a fad, Prussia led his brother on a trek of imperialism that was fun and thrilling, but exceedingly bad for public image. They received a telegram one night that France had broken free of the diplomatic walls they had built on his borders, and was in talks with England and Russia. He was constructing alliances, as was the rest of Europe around them, which very pointedly excluded the German Empire.
It was to the point that it was difficult to so much as get a drink of water without being attacked, or at least being chased away, in territories which they had once considered to be allies. As the world became more perilous, they spent increasing amounts of time in Austria and Hungary's house in order to confirm allegiances.
When Germany was in their presence, they would laugh and smile and play music. When they thought he wasn't, they would speak in serious, hushed tones about concerns with the rest of the world. Discontent was brewing more strongly every day, and each one was quietly training and assembling armies for future militant needs. Germany would eavesdrop on the three of them, but never when Austria would leave the room.
Many a time, Prussia had sung the praises of Hungary as a warrior (when she wasn't in earshot, of course). Germany hadn't believed most of it, originally, in favor of the softer woman that he'd come to know in his childhood. But when she would whisper of battle with his brother, when they spoke of partitioning and genocide and starvation as if such things were nothing more or less routine than walking down the street to the market, he couldn't sit there and listen.
Not if he was going to be with them and them alone, which was becoming more the case every single day.
Germany wasn't a bad person; at least, that's what he told himself. And neither were Hungary or Austria or Prussia, everyone was just reacting to the times that were changing so much more quickly than they ever had before.
Even when Hungary and Prussia would gain a look of blood thirst that was nothing shy of chilling…. They weren't bad.
He couldn't live with himself if the only ones in the world who would talk to him on a friendly manner were… well… evil.
They weren't, he firmly decided. At least, his brother wasn't because the angel was still very much around. It slept in Prussia's hair as he wrote furiously in his diary; entries that Germany still wasn't allowed to read because of excuses and explanations that were ever-changing.
One night, Prussia had noticed Germany spying on him, and he'd smiled and asked Germany what he thought about Africa.
The bird watched Prussia watch Germany, and Germany watched it right back as he said he enjoyed it quite a bit.
Prussia grinned and messed his brother's hair as he said that was a very good sentiment; they would head out in the morning to defend their territories. He laughed a bit that England was a greedy bastard, and liked to get his hands into everyone else's business. He said that, on the trip, Prussia was going to let Germany show him exactly how much he'd picked up. The time for strategy was upon them.
He said it was good, it was very good, how much Germany had been listening around corners. He said that it was a great sign that Germany had grown to have a bit, more than a bit, of resentment because that would carry him a long ways if he nurtured it properly.
Prussia wouldn't go any further, he said that they both needed to sleep if they were going to travel so far and fight very well in the morning.
The bird stared at them both through the whole conversation, and nestled back down to sleep. Germany wondered what that meant. He prayed for guidance that night, but he fell asleep before he came to any answers.