Quick Note: I really. Hate. This. Chapter. I had it complete for a few days, trying to fix it but my brain just wasn't working. It's kind of sloppy and has no point to it, but I guess some stories have that in them. It's just...a terrible chapter and I'm sorry for it's crappiness. And this time, I mean it; the following chapters after this one will be much more exciting (I hope). Reviews and critiques are greatly appreciated!
8 months later
It was a big day, a big day for Roderich, that is. He was finally going on tour for the first time with several other musicians to perform across Europe. Elizabeta was excited for him, but was nervous to be all alone in a huge manor like this, especially while she was pregnant. "You'll be safe out there, right?" she asked, watching the servants carry Roderich's luggage to the carriage.
"Of course, liebling!" Roderich answered. "Unfortunately I won't be back before our child is born, but nonetheless, I'll be back. As a proud musician and father." He kissed her on her forehead and patted the bump on her belly.
"Herr Edelstein, the carriage is loaded up and is ready to go." The driver announced.
"Right." Roderich answered, with a slight nod. He smiled again towards his wife. "Take care of yourself, liebling."
"I will." Liz replied, lowering her head. "I love you."
"Ich liebe dich auch." Roderich kissed her one last time and climbed up on the carriage. As Liz watched the carriage ride off, she patted her stomach, frowning.
"Oh Roderich," she whispered. "If only it was your child."
Depression was beginning to lurk around Gilbert as he worked around the farm. This had been the longest he had ever gone without seeing Liz, and it was starting to tear him apart on the inside. His love for her was still there in his heart, and he knew that he would always feel empty until he saw her again. A day didn't go by without Gilbert thinking of Elizabeta, what she had been up too, and what her marriage with that lame-o was like. She promised him a letter, but she left him hanging on the edge for months without one letter sent. If he could, Gilbert would write a letter to Liz in a heartbeat, but he had no idea what her address was.
During his usual afternoon break, Gilbert spotted the mail carrier making his way up the hill towards his family's little house. Feeling excitement flutter in his heart, Gilbert sprinted towards the small man, almost knocking him over. "It's about damn time you got here!" he shouted, startling the old man. Gilbert outstretched his hand, waiting for the man to hand him the mail.
"You, my sir, are probably the rudest man I've ever met in my life." The mail carrier murmured, shuffling through his bag. "I don't know what you're so impatient for; is there some letter that your life is dependent on?" Yes, the girl I love promised to write to me and she hasn't. Gilbert though, shifting side to side.
"Stop the shit talk, alright, and just give me the mail!" Gilbert yelled, furious. It was wrong to 'shoot the messenger'; Gilbert knew that the old man didn't deserve to be screamed at for something he wasn't even involved in, but it was 8 months now and he was through with being patient.
"Here you go, young man." The old man muttered, handing Gilbert a few envelopes. "Ain't much, but I hope whatever you're waiting for, is in there." Gilbert nodded and waved goodbye before running inside the house and looking through the envelopes.
Nothing. Nothing from Liz.
Broken-hearted, Gilbert slumped into a chair, dropping the envelopes on the floor beside him. "I know the mail is slow but," he muttered. "It shouldn't take eight months for it to send, right?" He slouched in his chair, pouting as he slowly leaned over to pick up the mail he dropped. "Has she forgotten about me? No, there's no way! I'm so awesome! I'm her friend! She loves me!" He paused. "At least I think she loves me."
She awoke with a pain in her stomach; Elizabeta sat up in her bed, screaming and with tears in her eyes from the excruciating pain. One of the maids came rushing through the door, holding a bunch of towels. "Frau Edelstein, is everything alright?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry. Elizabeta nodded, but let out another scream, letting the tears race down her face. "The baby…it must be early!" Liz shook her head.
"No! I'm only eight months…there's no way the baby is coming now!" she cried, wincing in pain.
"I've heard that sometimes babies come earlier than they're expected to be." The maid said, nodding. "I'll go tell someone to find the midwife. I'll be right back, Frau Edelstein; everything will be alright." The maid hurried out of the room, leaving Liz crying out in pain. Liz held onto her swollen stomach, telling herself to rest and relax at the best she could.
"Perhaps there is a chance that the baby will be Roderich's." she whispered to herself. "It would certainly make things easier for me…for us." Another wave of pain crash over her, causing her to cry out and hug her sheets; tears raced down her cheeks as she bit down on her fist. Elizabeta heard footsteps rush back into the room and the maid rubbed her back.
"The midwife is on her way," she said. "It'll be an hour or so, so hang in there." The maid's voice was muffled from Liz's cries and wails, but also Liz couldn't understand her because she only spoke in German. In Liz's state of mind, she didn't have the strength to try to understand what the maid had told her.
"Could you repeat that?" she murmured. "Auf Englisch?" The maid gave her a strange look, but shook her head, indicating she couldn't speak English. Liz winced as the pain subsided, and she relaxed a little.
"I'll go get a pail of water and washcloth for you, Frau." she said quickly, bowing before exiting.
"W-wait!" Liz called, reaching out. She frowned, laying her head against the cold pillow behind her. As much as she could, Liz curled up, wrapping the blankets around her to fill in the empty gap in her heart. She wished she didn't have to go through with this alone, she wished she could have someone's hand to hold onto; she was scared. She sniffed and closed her eyes, bracing herself for another wave of pain.
The grandfather clock in the living room struck at nine o' clock as Gilbert snuck down the rickety stairs and snatched his jacket off of the coat hanger. The door swung open as he shuffled out into the night to meet with some old friends. Next to Liz, Antonio and Francis were Gilbert's second closest friends. Once a month, they would meet at the pub and drink away the night, sloppily flirt with the girls and barmaids and stumble their way home. With Liz gone, Gilbert couldn't wait to get away from the dingy farm house he lived in with his family and rant to his friends about his life; even if he was drunk as a lard doing so.
"Buenas noches, Gilbert!" Antonio greeted, waving. He and Francis were leaning against the walls of the building, waiting for Gilbert to step in front of them. "It's been a long time, mi amigo. How are you doing?" Gilbert simply shrugged and stared at the entrance.
"I'll tell you once we're inside." he replied. "Life's been a little too interesting for me lately."
"I thought you always complained that your life was too boring, Gil." Francis remarked, following Gilbert into the pub.
"I guess you should always be careful with what you wish for." Gilbert mumbled, sitting down at the bar. "Before I go off and tell you two my sob stories, how have you guys been?" The bartender, recognizing them from previous visits, smiled at them and poured them their favorite drinks.
"Just the usual." Francis muttered, staring at his cup. "Though, I must say I'm a little more interested in what you have to tell us, Gilbert." Antonio nodded in agreement. "How little miss Liz doing? Have you heard from her?" Gilbert sighed, closing his eyes to hide his pain.
"No." he answered simply. He took a sip of his beer, letting his thoughts gather before he dared to speak again.
"She got married to…what was his name again?" Antonio asked, drumming his fingers against the bar.
"Roderich Edelstein!" Francis finished for him, sighing dreamily. "What a handsome man indeed! He's famous now, you know." Antonio gasped in shock.
"Really? No way!" he cheered, smiling. "That's amazing. It must be great to be married to someone who's well known." Gilbert grunted, indicating his annoyance with his friend as he slid his beer to the side. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"What do you think is wrong?" Gilbert snapped. He slumped in his seat, pushing the handle of his beer mug back and forth with his finger. "Liz promised me should write letters to me once she was settled in Vienna and it's been eight months; how much longer do I have to wait?"
"Oh, it's going to be one of those nights." Antonio mumbled to Francis, covering his mouth slightly so Gilbert wouldn't hear. "Gilbert, when are you going to let it go, eh? There're plenty of other women out there for the picking!" Gilbert sat up, glaring at his friends and sticking out his bottom lip in a pout. Francis stretched out his arms and nodded in agreement.
"Antonio's right, mon ami, just look around you! We're in a pub for crying out loud; there's girl's everywhere!" he said, smiling. Gilbert groaned, rubbing his face with his palm.
"It's not that simple, Francis." Gilbert mumbled, slouching even more.
"Sure it is," Francis corrected, standing up. He pulled Gilbert up by the arms, dragging him out of his seat. "Up, up, up! We're going to find you a lady friend for the night! Come on!"
"Dammit, Francis! That's not going to fix anything!" Gilbert protested, pulling away. Both of his friends chuckled, exchanging worried glances at each other.
"We're only trying to help, Gil." Francis said, putting his hands on his hips. "You've been depressed about this for months now, a year!"
"And the three of us know how bad you get when you're depressed and drunk." Antonio added. "Think about how much of a mess you were when Liz rejected you at that ball. Don't go back into the darkness you were in all those months ago, amigo."
"It's time to move on! Yes, you may have lost a friend that was very dear to you, and that doesn't mean you still care about her; but you can't mope for the rest of your life because of her." Francis continued, draping his arm on Gilbert's shoulder. He gestured to a group of girls sitting a table. "Look, why don't you go introduce yourself to those beautiful young ladies over there. Nothing has to happen between you, but just say hello; put yourself out there!"
"B-but—"
"No buts! Just go!" Francis gave a reassuring push to Gilbert, sending him forward and tripping over his own feet. Glancing over his shoulder, Gilbert grumbled under his breath as he hesitantly made his way over to the table. The group of girls looked up at him, almost seeming like they were glaring at him for even walking over towards them. After standing there for a few awkward moments, Gilbert turned back around, sulking back over to his seat and chugging down a beer. "You're hopeless!" Francis cried, smacking his forehead. "Watch and learn!" Francis marched away, turning into is typical suave self as he introduced himself to the girls at the table.
"Don't mind him, Gilbert. Not everyone can as flirtatious as he is." Antonio said, leaning back. "Don't worry, we'll find someone for you; but for now, let's just have a few drinks and not worry about our love lives, then. How about a song, eh? Know any good drinking songs?" Gilbert thought for a moment, and shrugged. "C'mon! We've sung loads of drinking songs before, why is this time any different?" Smirking, Gilbert chuckled.
"'Cause I'm not drunk enough yet."
"Relax, Frau. The midwife should be here soon." she said, soothingly. The pain was absolutely unbearable; Liz knew her contractions had been more and more frequent in the past hour; one right after the other. She knew the baby was ready; she just prayed that maybe, maybe, the child looked similar to Roderich. The maid dampened the cloth again, draping it over Elizabeta's forehead and holding her hand. The door swung open and a woman in her late 40s rushed in, glancing over at the maid.
"I'm sorry; I came here as fast as I could." The midwife announced. "How far off is she?"
"I think she is ready." The maid muttered, giving a concerned look to Elizabeta. "It'll all be over soon, Frau." The midwife nodded, kneeling down on the floor.
"Just get it out of me!" Liz cried, wincing.
"Toll. Frau Edelstein, I'm going to need you to push!" she called. Liz squeezed the maid's hand, screaming in pain as she did what the midwife ordered her to do. "You're doing great, Elizabeta! Keep pushing!" Elizabeta cried out in pain, only to be silenced as she heard the faint cry of a newborn and a wave of relief blanketed over her. Elizabeta lied back against the pillows, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath, hearing the maid and the midwife talk in hushed voices. Sooner or later, Liz heard the midwife's footsteps come closer to her. Liz opened her eyes to see her smiling, holding the newborn in her arms. "It's a boy! Congratulations!" she cheered. "He seems to be healthy, so you have nothing to worry about." She handed Liz her son, smiling and saying her goodbyes and exited. Elizabeta cradled her son, delighted at first, but frowned.
Light, soft, feathery blonde hair sat atop her newborn son's head. He looked up at her with bluish-greenish eyes, balling up his tiny hands into fists, cooing. Elizabeta sighed; she knew no one in Roderich's family had blonde hair, or had the trait of blue eyes for that matter. But Gilbert's family did. How would she explain all of this to Roderich?
The maid stood next to Liz, a nervous smile spread across her face, and leaned down to get a better look at the child. "Congratulations, Frau." she exclaimed. "He's a beautiful baby boy; what will you name him?" Liz smiled, watching her son slowly close his eyes, nodding off.
"I think I'll name him Heinrich." Liz answered, kissing her son's forehead.
"Why Heinrich?" the maid asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Liz's smile grew wider, as she swayed back and forth.
"It's a name a friend and I have always liked."
The trio stumbled out of the pub around midnight, wrapping their arms around each other's shoulders, supporting each other's weight. Gilbert, being the most drunk out of the three, mostly slumped against his friends, letting them drag him along the way. "You guys are the best." he stated, slurring his words together. He started laughing loudly, his cackling voice echoing off of the houses. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Antonio grinned.
"Think he's had a bit much, Francis?" he asked, quietly. Francis chuckled, pulling Gilbert up by the arm.
"He certainly knows when to overdo it." Francis answered. "Don't worry; we'll get him home safe a sound. The only thing we'll have to be afraid of is his grandfather or Ludwig yelling at us for being terrible influences on him." Antonio rolled his eyes.
"We could do what we did the last time; threw him on the front porch and run away before we're seen?" he suggested, jokingly. "But I don't think he can stand on his own two feet much longer. We better hurry."
"My best friends!" Gilbert sang, off key. "My best, best, best, best friends. Though, you guys still aren't as awesome as me. There are only two people on this earth that are awesome and that's me…" He paused, hiccupping and swaying a bit. "And Lizzz." Gilbert smirked. "You guys are close seconds though."
"Sheesh, he really never stops talking about her, does he?" Antonio complained. "We filled him up with beer, watched him dance around like an idiot and he somehow ended up sticking his face in some girl's chest, yet he still talks about Elizabeta. I don't get it." Francis chuckled.
"What can we do? He hopelessly loves her." he remarked. "Poor guy though, she doesn't love him back."
"Shut up, loser!" Gilbert shouted. "She does love me! If she didn't love me, she wouldn't have come all the way to my dingy house to say goodbye and have sex with me!" Antonio and Francis simultaneously stopped and stared at their drunken friend. "Hey, why'd we stop?"
"Hold on a minute, Gilbert," Francis muttered. "You mean to tell us that you and Liz slept together?" Gilbert nodded, shooting him with a smug grin. Before Francis could say anything else, Antonio tugged on Gilbert's arm, dragging him further.
"C'mon, he's just talking out of his ass now. You know how much he likes to brag about nonsense." he grumbled. "Let's go, Gilbert. We're almost to your house." The three walked up the hill, Gilbert tripping over what seemed to be air and they knocked on the door. Gilbert's younger brother answered the door, giving them his signature scowl as usual.
"LUDWIG!" Gilbert cheered, falling on top of his brother. "It's past your bedtime, baby brother! You should be sleeping!" Ludwig support his brother by pushing him, guiding him over to a chair. "My baby brother should be sleeping…sleeping like a little, bitty baby."
"I'm not a little kid anymore, Gilbert." Ludwig grumbled, straightening his back to look at Gilbert's friends. "Why can't you guys do something a little bit less self degrading when you hang out?"
"There's nothing wrong with getting drunk every now and then." Francis answered, waving his hand in the air. "Besides, Gilbert needs a break from living in this grey house with you and your boring grandfather; he's much more interesting and lively then the two of you." Ludwig gave Francis a glare before turning back around to face his brother. "We're just trying to support him, unlike you."
"Taking my brother out to the pub to get so drunk that he can barely see straight is not supporting him in any way, shape or form!" Ludwig shouted. "Now, why don't you two get your smug faces out of this house! You've had your fun, geh weg!" Francis and Antonio exchanged glances with one another before turning away and leaving the house.
"We'll see you later, Gilbert! In a few weeks, okay?" Antonio said, waving. "Try to chipper up; everything between you and Liz will alright!" Sluggishly, Gilbert waved back before falling off of his chair. Ludwig sighed with frustration, lifting his brother up and supporting his weight on his shoulders.
"Why can't you seem to keep your head straight, Gilbert?" Ludwig asked, softly. He carried his brother up the staircase, leading him to his bedroom and let him drop to his bed. Before leaving, Ludwig made sure Gilbert was settled in his bed and asleep. As the door clicked shut behind him, Ludwig muttered to himself: "I just wish you'd talk to me, Gil. I'm here for you."