It so happened Ludwig did not have long to wait before seeing the Benefactor again – the man stopped by the following day looking slightly frantic. Rather than let himself be led out to Ludwig's studio by the housekeeper, the elder man simply sidestepped around the waddling Frau Kost and hastened toward the sculptor's workspace, resulting in much shouting from the wheezing housekeeper before she gave up and returned to the house.

Ludwig watched him curiously from his studio window. The man's flyaway white hair sticking up in all directions and his ancient coat flapping about him made him look so utterly ridiculous, Ludwig wondered if this could be the same man from two days ago.

"My dear Herr Beilschmidt!" the man called. "So sorry to disturb you, but I seem to have misplaced something. I was just wondering if it could be here?"

Ludwig's brow furrowed as the man drew level. Surely this couldn't be the nameless Benefactor. He must have been mistaken, for Ludwig could have sworn the Benefactor was balding, and this man had a full head of white hair. But the coat…the coat had to be the same one….

"I-I'm sorry," Ludwig stammered, wiping his hands on his apron, "remind me who you are again?"

"My name is unimportant," the man answered.

Ludwig swallowed. So it was the same man. But he could have sworn the man had less hair last time. But, he reminded himself, when he first met the Benefactor, it was in rapidly failing daylight. Yes, that was it. It was poor lighting…that was all. Contenting himself with that thought, Ludwig pushed away his doubts and shook the stranger's hand.

"…Right," Ludwig said somewhat vaguely. "Right. I remember you now. The fallen soldier. Would you like to see it? Granted, there's not much to see. Yet."

"So you – you have started work on it? Already? Oh my. I had wondered…but never mind. Let us see it, then."

"Of course," Ludwig said, and he removed the cloth covering the piece.

The overall shape had been roughed out, and there were areas where Ludwig began to work in detail – the bend of a leg, the beginnings of a hand splayed on the ground.

The Benefactor walked over, his hand lightly tracing over the marble. "My word, you do work fast, don't you Herr Beilschmidt?"

"Well truthfully, it's the only piece I seem to have done anything with."

The Benefactor rounded on Ludwig, eyes growing wide.

"I-is there something wrong?" Ludwig asked.

"My dear boy," the Benefactor said, slowly advancing towards Ludwig, "do not rush this! I told you…take as long as you need."

"I know. It's just…I can't seem to – to focus on anything else."

The Benefactor squinted up at Ludwig. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Two days," Ludwig said, blinking away from the man's penetrating gaze.

"Herr Beilschmidt, I beg you – as your employer – please, please work on something else. This sculpture is important to me. I don't want you rushing to finish it, and I don't want you to ruin yourself in the process. As I said before, you can years to complete it, if you must. I want you to cover it and put it out of your mind. Work on it only when you are able, understand?"

Ludwig nodded.

"Good. Now, about my missing book – "

"You mean this one?" Ludwig said, pulling the notebook from his apron pocket.

The Benefactor let out a relieved breath. "Yes. That one. I can't believe I was so stupid. The damage this could have caused…."

Uncertainty etched Ludwig's brow as he watched the man take the book and hold it as though it were sacred.

"You didn't look in it, did you?" the man asked sharply.

"Only to see if your address was in there. S-so I could return it," Ludwig stammered, caught off guard by the man's sudden change of tone.

Tension returned briefly to the Benefactor's face. He eyed Ludwig with a look the other couldn't quite place. A hungry, hunting look – like a cat readying to pounce on a mouse.

"W-what is it? Some kind of…army roster?" Ludwig said.

The Benefactor's face relaxed as he pressed the book to his chest. The strange look in his eyes vanished.

"Something like that," he said quietly.

The Benefactor tucked the notebook away in an inside pocket and extended his hand. Ludwig grasped it.

"Thank you, Herr Beilschmidt, for keeping my notebook safe. I hope it didn't burden you too much. You should, undoubtedly, find it easier to finish your other commissions before working any more on mine. Remember what I said and take your time. Good day."

Ludwig stared after the strange man, watching him make his way out of the garden, and wondering what – if any – meaning the Benefactor's parting words held.

He did as the Benefactor asked and covered the shapeless marble with a tarpaulin and set to work on his other pieces.

Ludwig found it admittedly easier to concentrate without that large slab of stone catching his eye every second. The form and idea of the fallen soldier were still in his mind, though, pushed to the very back of his consciousness. But it was still there. Like an insect bite: ignorable until prodded – only then did it start to itch.

Ludwig focused his attention on completing his guild's exhibition piece, not wanting to scratch at that itch just yet. And his piece was certainly the most talked about at the guild's opening night reception. He had carved a statue of a young maid carrying a basketful of flowers – a representation of Spring. She stood on one foot, on tip-toe like a ballerina, almost pirouetting off her dais. Her dress, caught in a breeze, pulled around her, showing off her form as flower petals spilled from her basket.

For two weeks, Ludwig had done nothing but work and re-work the statue. It was perhaps one of the smallest things he'd ever carved – standing just over a foot tall – but the detail had been exquisitely wrought. Ludwig worked the marble thinner and thinner along the girl's flowing dress until it became translucent.

The members and patrons of his guild marveled at his skill, daring to approach the taciturn blonde and shake his hand in congratulations.

Ludwig received them well, nodding his thanks. But as the night wore on, their words of praise became nothing more than a dull buzzing between his ears. His genial smiles became grimaces. His hands felt empty. He shoved them in his pockets to stop their reflexive clenching. He needed work. The spot in the back of his mind was starting to itch.

Ludwig knew how thankless – and perhaps somewhat crazed – he must look. It was time to excuse himself. It would be impolite not to. He had his cousin to thank for that. Manners. One thing Roderich prided above all else. And it would not do for Cousin Roderich to hear what a boorish, narcissistic artist Ludwig had become. He'd already had his verbal lashing for the month and did not wish to suffer another.

Ludwig made his excuses to the other guild members and left for home, his mind prickling at the thought of his cousin. He had not spoken to Roderich since the fiasco at luncheon two weeks ago. He still wasn't ready to forgive his cousin for all that was said – regardless of whether or not Roderich had been right to say it.

Ludwig cursed himself for even thinking Roderich had been right. He was twenty-five, successful in his career, and quite capable of making his own decisions. Oh he couldn't wait for his cousin to go to Africa. Two years without Roderich. It would be a freedom Ludwig never knew. Francis had been right – there was nothing wrong with him. He didn't need Roderich's derision….

Ludwig's aggravation grew with each step so that by the time he reached home, his mind was too riled to sleep. Instead, he dealt with his anger at his cousin the only way he knew how.

He gathered all the oil lamps he could carry out to his studio and began working, his hands shaking with barely suppressed rage as he picked up chisel and mallet.

Ludwig started on the altarpiece for the cathedral, the itch in the back of his mind forgotten, as he gouged away chunks of marble.

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Days passed. The weather turned chillier as autumn winds shook the leaves from their trees. The altarpiece neared completion.

And Roderich came to call one afternoon in October.

It had been a month since last they spoke, and Ludwig was none too eager to change that.

"What do you want?" he growled, espying his cousin framed in his studio door.

"I understand your latest exhibition was rather impressive," Roderich said, choosing to ignore the rude reception. "Congratulations. I only wish I had been there to see it."

Ludwig eyed his cousin a moment. The ever-present newspaper was tucked under one of Roderich's arms while the other leaned on a walking stick.

"If I had wanted you there, you would have been," Ludwig said, returning to his work.

Roderich pressed his lips into a thin line but did not rise to Ludwig's impudence. Instead, he cleared his throat and took a step towards his cousin.

"When was the last time you held a public reception?" Roderich asked.

"…Why?" Ludwig said, suddenly wary. It was unlike his cousin to willingly discuss his work.

"Just…humor me," Roderich said, doing his best to mask his exasperation.

Ludwig shrugged. "Last spring, I think."

Roderich nodded. "Would you be amenable to having one in, say, December? For the holidays, you know."

Ludwig stopped working, slowly turning to face his cousin. "Why?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. "What are you scheming now, Roderich?"

Roderich blinked, affronted. "There's no need for suspicion young man, I assure you."

"Oh, no. Of course not," Ludwig scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "I only have four commissions to finish and now you want to dump a public showing of my studio on top of that. I have nothing prepared for an opening – all of my personal works are half finished! – and you want me to…you expect me to – to drop everything and – "

"It's for Elizaveta," Roderich said quietly.

Ludwig's demeanor immediately softened hearing her name. "…W-what?"

"I'm asking this for Elizaveta," Roderich said, eyes flitting to the ground. "She's…been restless for quite some time, and…I'm hoping it will help take her mind off of…things. She would organize the whole thing, so you needn't worry. Please...this is – it's important. I only need your consent. She – she always was so…supportive…of you," Roderich added with a slight edge to his voice.

Ludwig swallowed. It seemed his cousin's marriage was only growing more tenuous. But Roderich had a point: Elizaveta had backed Ludwig ever since he began his apprenticeship – and for her, he would do anything.

"…Yeah," Ludwig breathed. "Okay. Sure. I'll – I'll try and finish whatever I can," Ludwig said, running a hand distractedly through his hair while taking a quick, visual appraisal of all the half-done sculptures littering his studio.

A small smile fluttered across Roderich's usually impassive face. "Thank you, cousin. It most certainly shall be an event."

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As the weather grew colder, and December drew nearer, Ludwig worked tirelessly to finish his commissions, which meant turning Francis away whenever he showed up, wanting to go drinking. Ludwig hated it – and Francis always left with a pout – but he had to ready himself for his holiday art reception. The altarpiece had been completed shortly after Roderich's visit, leaving the fountain nymph and the bust. The Benefactor's statue could, of course, wait.

Ludwig finished the fountain piece and the bust in November, leaving him just three weeks to work on his pieces for the upcoming showing. But Ludwig did not mind the tight deadline. He found working with such close time restraints helped him focus more – and helped keep the itch in the back of his head at bay.

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A few days before the showing, Elizaveta came over to start readying Ludwig's courtyard for the reception. There were to be metal bonfire brackets staked around the courtyard to keep the guests warm and provide much needed light as evening shifted to night. A small buffet and bar were set up in a corner closest to the house and tables and chairs were arranged in the center of the yard.

"I'm so proud of you for doing this," Elizaveta said. She placed a gentle kiss on Ludwig's cheek as they watched the final preparations the night before the opening.

Ludwig shrugged a shoulder. Not like he hadn't held public showings before. Still…. "Roderich said it was important to you."

Elizaveta looked up at him, her brow wrinkling. "I think it's more important to him, actually."

"I doubt that," Ludwig scoffed. And before Elizaveta could say any more, Ludwig excused himself to finish cleaning up his studio for tomorrow's reception.

It snowed that night. The courtyard looked like an iced cake the following morning, the statues were sugar sculptures winking in the pale winter sun. Ludwig and his housekeeper bustled around, clearing snow from the tables and chairs. Elizaveta arrived that afternoon with some workmen to clear the courtyard's main dining area of snow.

Work continued right up until the first guests were due to arrive.

It was with a jolt of panic that Ludwig looked at his watch and realized he should have changed his clothes for the opening fifteen minutes ago. He dashed inside, scrabbling around his wardrobe for his best suit, and hurriedly threw it on.

He was still trying to tie his tie with nervous hands as he descended the stairs. A familiar face smirked up at him.

"Thank God you're here," Ludwig moaned.

"You sound like you didn't think I'd show," Francis said, lightly smacking Ludwig's fumbling fingers away from the tie and proceeding to fix the knot for him.

"I just know how you are," Ludwig said with a small smile. "Thank you," he added when Francis had finished.

"No problem. So can we have that drink now? You've been putting me off for a month."

Ludwig laughed and nodded, leading the way out to the courtyard.

The courtyard soon began to fill as more and more guests arrived. Some Ludwig didn't recognize – and others, he did. Some of the guild members were there, as were some of his most devoted patrons. Ludwig scanned the crowd, looking for his cousin, but there was no sign of Roderich yet. Elizaveta flitted easily around the crowd, her tinkling laugh rising above the dull chatter. Francis left to peruse the buffet, and Ludwig meandered through the crowd, smiling and nodding his greeting. Some offered words of congratulations, to which Ludwig dutifully replied "Thank you." But he couldn't help noticing, as he moved through the yard, no one seemed to be paying any attention to his sculptures – and his studio stood empty. It was certainly strange for an art showing (and Ludwig would be lying if he said it didn't hurt his ego, just a little, to have his work so blatantly ignored). Frowning slightly, he went to go find Francis. He was stopped, however, by a rough hand grabbing his arm. Ludwig spun around, ready to confront the impertinent stranger.

But it was no stranger.

It was Roderich's friend, Vash. His little sister Lili by his side as always. But something was different about her. She looked uncharacteristically miserable, her eyes cast down and her hands held, folded stiffly, in front of her.

"Congratulations," Vash ground out.

Was it the flickering bonfire light, or did Vash's face look more murderous than usual?

Ludwig regarded him with uncertainty for a moment before stammering out a "Thank you."

Vash grunted in return and then stalked off, his sister trailing behind him.

Ludwig watched them go, confusion knitting his brow. He turned to find Francis, but something else caught his eye.

There was someone in his studio.

Ludwig hastened over, recognizing the coat.

"I see you took my advice, Herr Beilschmidt," the Benefactor said, gazing pleasantly around the newly completed works, as Ludwig entered.

"Didn't have much of a choice," Ludwig muttered. "This whole thing was rather impromptu. What are you doing here, anyway? Surely my cousin – "

"I have ears everywhere. These are quite marvelous," the man said, nodding at the new pieces.

"Thanks," Ludwig said. "You seem to be the only one here who appreciates them. Even my own patrons and guild…."

Ludwig let the rest of his thought trail away as a look of dawning comprehension spread across his face. Roderich's absence, Elizaveta's words, Lili, Vash, his ignored sculptures. It was all tied together. It all made sense. It all meant one thing….

"They're not here for an art show," Ludwig said as a coldness spread through his limbs that had nothing to do with the weather. Oh what had Roderich done?

"I'm afraid not," the Benefactor said with a knowing smirk.

"How did you – "

"Herr Beilschmidt," the Benefactor said, speaking across Ludwig, "I'm afraid tonight you will be faced with a choice. I can only advise you – choose well. You're a charming young man, so please don't take offense when I say I hope I won't be seeing you any time soon – not until it's time for my sculpture to be complete. Good night."

With the swish of a coattail, the Benefactor swept from the studio and disappeared amongst the crowd.

Ludwig ran out after him, nearly knocking over Francis as he did so.

"Francis! Oh I'm sorry! But have you seen – " Ludwig spluttered, trying to see around his friend.

"Ludwig!" Francis gasped, grabbing his arms. "Ludwig…tell me you're not – I only just found out from Elizaveta – "

"Found out what?" Ludwig snapped, still scanning the crowd.

Francis' mouth moved but no sound came out. He was saved further explanation by a reedy voice calling out over the crowd: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?"

Ludwig jerked his head up. He knew that voice.

It was Roderich.

His cousin stood at the top of the courtyard stairs, wine glass held in one hand, waiting for the gathered crowd to hush.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I do beg your forgiveness for the short notice," Roderich continued, "but I want to thank you all for coming! And it is with great pleasure my wife and I – " Roderich raised his wine glass, nodding down at Elizaveta, standing at the front of the crowd – "announce the engagement of my cousin, Ludwig Beilschmidt – whom you all know is like a son to me – to Fräulein Lili Zwingli, sister of decorated Army captain, Vash Zwingli!"

Ludwig blinked, quite certain the ground was falling out from under him as a booming applause broke out from the gathered guests.

The applause died down and Roderich was saying something in the background, though Ludwig could not hear what over the loud, fast rushing sound between his ears.

Had he…had he heard his cousin right? He was to be…married?

This whole thing had been a set up. One of Roderich's grandest schemes. And he had fallen for it….

Ludwig fought the urge not to be sick – fought the urge to stay upright as the courtyard suddenly lurched violently forward.

He stumbled.

An arm shot out to steady him.

Francis.

Ludwig gripped his friend's arm is if he were drowning. Panic widened his brilliant blue eyes as he searched Francis' for answers, but there were none there.

The world crashed back down around him – and it laughed at him. Ludwig looked around, his face ashen, at each stupidly grinning, giggling face in the crowd.

"…Yes, he's always been a shy boy," Roderich's voice cut in above the laughing guests. "Come and join us up here, Ludwig."

Far away – miles and miles and miles away – Ludwig glimpsed his cousin standing on the courtyard steps, Elizaveta at his side, and Vash and Lili standing beneath them.

Ludwig stumbled forward, trying to maintain balance on wobbly legs.

The closer he got, though, to the party gathered on the stairs, the surer his footfalls became. The initial shock had worn off. Ludwig was able to focus much more clearly. He had eyes only for his cousin – and those eyes were growing more lethal with each step.

"I would like a word with you, cousin," Ludwig rumbled, his voice low and deadly, as he drew level with Roderich, "once this charade is over. In. Private."

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A/N: Sorry for the delay! Writer's block sucks. But, anyway...Prussia should hopefully make his first appearance next chapter! And that's all I'm gonna say about it :) Thank you guys for reading/reviewing - I love you all and mean it XD