Chapter 10: Backstories, Two Paths and Dreams of Dark Wizards.
It was a dark and stormy night.
It really was. Unlike Snoopy, who never really managed to continue his story beyond that point, this chapter, however, does.
It was definitely the sort of scene which people would use to set a creepy Halloween story. This in this case, was sort of what was happening. If you counted the day which the resurrection of a famous, long thought dead Dark Lord a Halloween story, then it was an appropriate day.
Graveyards always tickled the Dark Lord. As it was, a place which signalled the end of life was ironically the place he had chosen to begin his new life. Life in the shrouds of Death, he mused, as his servant and henchman Wormtail was busying himself with the preparations of the ritual which they were about to do.
It would do him some good to be able to move his own limbs again. He thought with longing. Soon....once they have the final part of the ritual.....they would be able to start....
And he'll be ruler, terrorist, emperor, King of an empire forgotten and long thought dead.....
He felt the air stir as a familiar tingling ran up his spine.
Magic was at work.
The time had come. Soon, he would have the boy in his hands....
There was a large thump, and two people emerged from the mist.
The Dark Lord lifted one nonexistent eyebrow. Well, tried to. Two people? He had only been expecting one.....well, no consequence. He'll just have to be rid of one. A part of him was already itching to get some killing done. Apparently the last kill, that old meddling Muggle at the Riddle house, was months ago, before the Triwizard competition. And he was yearning for more kills.
Wormtail seized the two boys, holding them up for his Master to see. The Lord Voldemort looked at them both coldly, and then uttered, "Kill the spare."
Wormtail nodded, and the words, "Avada Kedavra' was about to hit the figure on the right, when suddenly the figure yelled, "Wait! Why are you killing me for, eh?"
The Dark Lord paused (cause he never freezes, so not cool.) "Oh, begging for mercy. The day when victims actually do so has long been on my mind, and...."
"I mean, "The figure said, "I am the Chosen one, I don't understand why you're killing me off and leaving him." The figure came into Lord Voldemort's sight.
He was a bespectacled young man, with wavy blonde hair and a long, spring like curl coming out from it. Eyes of bluish purple fire stared at him, resolutely staring him down. He felt a chill run down his spine. The man was glaring at him as though he had murdered his entire family and had threatened the lives of the people he loved.
Yet the Dark Lord couldn't, for the life of him, figure out who he was.
"Who are you?"
The figure huffed, as though he knew he was going to face this question. "How rude! I am Matthew Williams, The Boy Who Lived, who at the age of one survived the Killing Curse that had murdered my parents and had single handed brought down you, Lord Voldemort! I am the one who you would come to kill many times, only to be defeated again and again! What say you to that, Voldemort?"
The triumphant challenge issued out was met with silence, with the hooded figure staring down at him, red eyes glinting dangerously in the darkness, slits moving back and forth, as though he was contemplating the boy in front of him. Finally, Voldemort raised his wand, pointed to the Boy Who Lived, and said, in a bored voice, "I have absolutely no idea who you are."
He pointed to the boy who had arrived with the speaking boy, and said, "I have only need of him. Take the other away."
The second figure, which had long been silent, started moving, his voice moaning slightly in pain. He stood up, revealing another boy, similar in build with Matthew, yet with clear blue eyes and a more confused expression on his face. "Whoa...That was just weird....hey, am I in Harry Potter's world? Cool! Am I the hero then?"
"Don't be so smug!" yelled the first boy, sounding angrier than he was. On the contrary, his eyes were tearing up, at yet another situation in which he was overshadowed by his twin. "It is I you are looking for, Voldemort! Leave my twin alone!"
"Ah," the sinister Voldemort whispered, stretching long, bony fingers towards the second boy, the skin strained and waxy against the dark moonlight. "Yes.....It has been long.....Alfred Jones......You are the one who I must destroy......"
"Stop!" Matthew yelled. "It's me you must duel! Look!" He raised the long blonde hair to show the thin scar on his forehead, shaped most inexplicably like a maple leaf.
"Look long and hard at this!" he shouted, nearly straining the soft voice he had. "This is the proof! This is the proof that shows that I was the one that faced you all those years ago! It is time for me to take my revenge-"
"Wormtail." Voldemort announced, lazily lounging in his chair." Take that nattering boy away. I have no idea who he is, but he is seriously cramping my torturing of the enemy..."
"I'M the enemy you want! " Matthew shouted, his arms seized from behind and being dragged away by Wormtail. "Not Alfred! God! He's supposed to be Cedric Diggory in this scene! I'm supposed to be Harry Potter!" He turned to Wormtail desperately, his voice holding a tone of urgency. "Wormtail, remember me? I set you free and alive in the last book? Then you turned into a rat and disappeared! Remember that?"
Wormtail cocked his head sideways and mused, "Yes....but I don't remember you, either." He turned to the direction of Voldemort. "In fact, the only one I do remember was that boy, Alfred Jones. He's not the main character, but he sure is famous."
" Hohoho!" Alfred was shouting. "Do your worst, tall skinny looking giraffe man!"
There was a yell of, " DO NOT CALL ME A GIRAFFE, Shorty four eyes! The name is Voldemort!"
Alfred wrinkled his nose. " Ew. Sounds like a bottle of detergent. "A light went off in his eyes. " How bout I call you Voldy- Pants? Now that's funny!"
"Argh! Die, scum!" A flash of light ensued, only to hear Alfred's laughter in the background.
Matthew looked scandalized. " How can he be the hero if all he does is make fun of the villain who is his mortal enemy and the one who must be defeated?" he demanded.
Wormtail shrugged, " Better him than somebody who we don't remember."
Matthew tried to retort, but suddenly Wormtail vanished and he was surrounded by many shadowy figures. He tried to run to each of them , to convince them that he was alive , he was the One. But as he wandered through the crowd, everyone just kept bumping into him, almost as though he had not been there in the first place. Panicking, he ran without looking, and bumped into someone. He looked up, and there he was. Somebody familiar....
" Gilbert! You've gotta help me! I'm the Chosen One , but nobody remembers me! You gotta convince them that it's me, not Alfred!" he said, desperately holding on to the man's collar, clinging to that one piece of hope he thought he had.
However, that hope was still lost as the pale man turned to look at him, with no recognition in his eyes, only a blank , unseeing look. Slowly , he opened his mouth, and in a deep, robotic voice, asked the three most terrible words Matthew thought would ever come out from his mouth.
" Who ....Are.....You?"
The yell of despair as Matthew collapsed to the floor was one which spoke of hopelessness, his one final fear coming true.
Gilbert was awoken by the feeling on an elbow suddenly jabbing into his side . His eyes opened, only to see Matthew thrashing and screaming in his sleep.
" Looks like Milady is having a nightmare...." He told a yellow fluffball, which had, while residing on the blonde's shoulder, had woken up in a flutter when Matthew started his thrashing and flew up, landing back on his original perch. The white fuzzball, on the other hand, merely opened one eye while raising his head, contemplated his owner, and the placed his head back down, preparing to go back to sleep.
" Is that how you show your love and loyalty for your owner?" Gilbert muttered as he winced slightly, placing a hand on his bandaged head. He then went to Matthew and placed a hand on his shoulder, patting him awake.
No results.
He then seized the boy's shoulder and shook it harder. That got a reaction from the younger boy, his eyes had snapped open to reveal his usual eye colour gaining more purple, almost ethereal and unreal, like a fae's own eyes.
" Gilbert!" He shouted, grabbing ahold of Gilbert's shoulders and looking terrified. " What is my name , my age and my pet? And what year is this?"
The older man blinked, not expecting such a reaction after what seemed like a serious nightmare. "Erm....You're Matthew Williams, I believe you're the same age as my younger brother, and you have that fluffball in front of you that you call in a variety of names that start with K. And Adam Lambert's season was last year, so it's what? 2010?"
Matthew gave a huge sigh of relief and collapsed once again against Gilbert, his chest heaving up and down. " Oh thank god. The next time Voldemort tries to get at me-" he suddenly stopped, realising the full extent of the dream he had, and immediately shut up.
Gilbert was quiet too, but for a different reason. " Why does my mouth taste like fish?"
Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Road
And Sorry I Could Not Travel both......
Wait.....what the hell am I doing? Thought Ludwig, as he stared at the path in front of him. And indeed, there were two little roads that were, in a coincidence that could only be worthy of a cheesy fanfiction story. In fact , fanfiction was the biggest of the nonsense. Thought Ludwig. All those fans , all fawning over characters that couldn't even be considered realistic. And the whole ...what did Gilbert call it? Slashing?
He shuddered. He really didn't want to be reminded of the thought.
Of course, the whole idea of irony didn't occur to Ludwig then, as he stared down the two paths in front of him.
Which one should he take? He wondered, looking apprehensive. Looking down at the map, he examined it with absolute scrutiny ( what else would he be examining it with? A sponge? A plate of pasta? Hm....examining it with a plate of pasta.....shit, sorry!) before looking back up at the paths. The map had only documented one path, which was the one on the right. So logically, he should take the path on the right, right? Cause it had been certified by professionals?
He saw the right path first, which was illuminated by a sunny glow of the bright sun. Birdsong was coming out from the trees, chirping a merry tune, while little woodland creatures, such as the squirrels scurried in and out of the path.
He then turned to the left path, which now looked rather cold and lonely, trees dark and tinged with grayish clouds and a chorus of ghostly children singing in Latin about his impending doom....
Okay, too much imagination. He blamed that Italian for that random thought. Or the recent slew of random thoughts he had in his mind. It was practically turning his organised , alphabetical from A-Z mind into a very mess cabinet in his home office part of his brain ( located primarily in his brain, completely furnished with houseplants.)
In any case, there it was. Two little roads,diverging from one path in a yellow wood. It was obvious which one he had to choose first. Didn't people say that the road less taken was much harder, but in the end more fruitful?
He looked back at the road that was definitely less taken and couldn't help but surpress a shudder.
Well. It wasn't the Ritz.
But it was his brother on the line....
" So...." drawled Gilbert.
They were sitting around a small fire that Matthew, with Gilbert's supervision, had managed to build with the collection of twigs and small dried leaves around them. Kumajiro was now cuddling around Matthew's lap, while the tiny little Gilbird had floated out towards the white fur and nestled itself snugly around the bear's back. The scene would have made Matthew go gooey with warmth if not for the fact that he was overwhelmed with embarrassment over being caught by someone while having a dream almost deemed childish by everyone else his age.
It's just not right ! He knows about my obsession with Harry Potter! He moaned inwardly. And I almost told him about that part of the dream with him in it! He's going to think I'm such a wuss, being sad over him abandoning me!! Wait, I think he already does! Argh, crap! Why did I have to cry and act all weak in front of him! Why can't I be more like Alfred! Damnit, damnit damn-
" Oy, Milady. Stop your spazzing already." Gilbert said lazily, a piece of grass between his teeth and doing his best resemblance of Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn. "Harry Potter themed dreams are experienced by everyone who read the books, which is to say nearly everyone in the world. Luddikins once had a dream that that blonde guy... Lucius Malfoy , was it? Anyway, Luddie once dreamt that that guy wore a strawberry pink leotard and along with the rest of the henchmen, were practicing the can-can, all wearing similar looking leotards. Then they suddenly wore costumes of the Village People and were doing the YMCA dance. I think that the snake guy erm....Moudly shorts, was it? Was wearing the Native American costume with tight leather."
Matthew , who had stopped his spazzing , was now listening intently to Gilbert, eyes wide . " Erm....Voldermort in YMCA?" Internally, he envisioned the set of Death Eaters in a dance studio all holding on to the barre and raising their legs in stretching. That fat guy Wormtail would look like a very large bit of strawberry. Though he really wouldn't want to eat him...
" In any case, everyone gets Harry Potter themed dreams , even at your age ." Gilbert continued, grabbing a stick and poking the campfire twigs. " And it could be worse. Some guys dream of being Doraemon."
" I don't really know if that counts as reassurement, but thanks anyway. " Muttered Matthew. He crawled to Gilbert's side, trying his best not to disturb the napping bear . "How's your head and ankle?"
Gilbert raised his head a little." Like the time I went to Roderich's party and attempted to run and slide under the table, only to trip and hit my head on the floor. 'Cept it's like thousand times worse."He lifted his leg experimentally , and pain blossomed on his face. " Damn....what did I do? Didn't hurt so much just now."
" Stop moving." Matthew commanded." I think you did all that climbing a tree just now . And your one man's act of singing was not fantastic too, by the way. Nobody listens to the Beatles anymore."
" Oh , and I suppose you're a better singer? When we get out of this forest, I'm going to challenge you to Karaoke Revolution! See who can sing better!" Gilbert yelled, charging out of his seat in a bid to stand up, fist pumped out. Then his face turned white with exertion and nearly collapsed to the ground.
"You see!" Matthew scolded, grabbing him around his middle to steady him. " If you keep moving, you won't have enough blood to move around later! You lost quite a bit of blood just now, you know."
" Tchh! I lost more before! A little blow's not going to kill me......" Gilbert grumbled as Matthew gently deposited him to the ground.
Matthew sighed." If you're going to be moving around , you'll faint faster, you know. Then you'll be unconscious for so long that you won't get any pancakes, you hear me?"
Gilbert gave a gasp of mock horror. " Oh no! No pancakes! How would I survive?"
After a few minutes of walking into the Road Less Taken, Ludwig was beginning to have second thoughts.
So far, the only thing that had alerted his senses was the ever descending temperature. This did nothing for Ludwig's psyche, except perhaps grit his teeth/chatter his teeth ever quicker with each step he took.
( A few months later, during his semi-annual visit to the Dentist, the attending had asked if Ludwig had been doing anything strenuous with his teeth, as the enamel in the molars had suffered quite a huge damage, much like if Ludwig had been gritting his teeth in stress for quite a long bit of time. Ludwig would sigh and mutter something about "Bruder" , "path less taken" and " Cold temperatures". The Doctor nodded in understanding. He had been in a few of those situations before.)
In any case, Ludwig was, in a few words, " Frightened out of his wits."
Don't get him wrong. Usually Ludwig was an unflappable person, unlike his best friend Feliciano, who would go crazy or overdramatize/overreact with any situation. However, Ludwig was still a 17 year old, in many cases, still a kid and prone to becoming frightened. He was not a boy, but not yet a man......great, now we're sorta paraphrasing Britney Spears. Please at this point ignore that part and just accept that Ludwig was frightened. Back to the story.
So there Ludwig was, standing there, armed with a stick and travelling on a cold , barren road. Yet, the road wasn't so barren that it did not have a small, white round object that suddenly rolled into his path.
Ludwig blinked, as his wariness went up a few notches. Why would a white object like that suddenly roll over to his path like that? Bending down, he went forth to get a better look of the round object.
It seemed to be made of some sort of yeasty dough.....white in colour.....somehow, it reminded him of something familiar...but that smell , that sound....
Ludwig's eyes widened. Then he proceeded to do a small run and dramatic jump as the small white , crackling object burst and exploded, making the loudest crackling noises ever heard.
One hour later.....
" Pancake....maple syrup...."
" Oh fine, I'll make some up. Stop dying."
" Wow...so it is true that gwailo can look cool when doing a bomb explosion jump..." a calm voice deadpanned as Ludwig coughed , trying to get the smoke out of his system. Ludwig, however, wasn't as calm as he knew that voice. Only one boy could have sent a small white Chinese bao rolling towards his direction and only one boy could making his food turn explosive.
" Donald?"yelled Ludwig. " Exactly what are you doing here? And what's with the whole , " Trying to kill me " bit?!"
The boy from Hong Kong calmly picked up the remains of a bun shaped explosive that had gone off and said, " Oops, my apologies, Ludwig . I believe I dropped this. "
" Dropped?! You ..... You dropped an explosive snack bun from 20 meters away?!"Ludwig couldn't help but yell, his usual stoic demeanour shaken by the effects of the bomb explosion and was now taking a more flustered approach to the problem. This usually never really happened to Ludwig. But remember, he was only a teen and had just been shaken up by an explosive.
Donald sighed, looking as bored as ever, though his golden eyes held a slight glint of sadistic malevolence in them. " Firstly, Ludwig, they're called Bao. Not just a snack bun, but a bao. Usually, Chinese people eat stuff like that during Dim Sum, which is basically snack time....Secondly, I wouldn't call it 20 meters away...more like 30 meters....boy ,your calculations are way off....."
" That's not the point! Why are you trying to kill me?! And don't tell me you " dropped" them! That thing rolled towards me as though it hadn't a care in the world! It had your rolling signature, Wong!"
" Now you're getting paranoid, Ludwig dai gor." Donald calmly picked up the bao. " I had some free time , so I thought I could plant some of my experiments around and see how they work. This one's a red bean paste filling bun, a Dou Sa Bao bomb....supposed to act more like a smoke bomb.....I better see what made them explode like that....."
" Argh! " yelled Ludwig. " Why, Donald?! Why?!!! Was there a need? You already did so on the bus , which was what you did to get out of the camp, remember?!"
Donald smirked. "Oh, but you see, that was the smaller shrimp dumpling one, the har gao firecrackers, guaranteed to do maximum damage in an enclosed area. Besides, I was having motion sickness. I had to do something, so I tried to destroy the bus...."
Ludwig was, by now speechless. "You tried to destroy the bus cause it gave you MOTION SICKNESS?!"
The Asian boy shrugged. "How else would you recommend I destroy the hold it had on me?" He picked up the remains of the bun bomb, then looked back. "Anyway, Dai Lo, I have to go now, need to check on the pastry filling back in camp.... Tally ho, old chum! "
And with that , Donald walked away from the scene, leaving a very flustered Ludwig to contemplate just why on earth did the Lord above grant him troublesome fellows to deal with. He'll have to write a book on them someday. And nobody would ever realise that the book was actually a non-fiction piece.
" Where did you learn to cook this?!" Gilbert gasped, nearly choking on the piece of pancake while gasping . A few bits of coughing later, and a swig of maple syrup helped to bring down the piece of pancake he was eating.
Matthew blushed, while he used the spatula to distribute two pancakes to his plate. " My mom's a pastry chef baker sorta person, and she used to make loads of awesome desserts for us. She also made her own maple syrup along with the pancakes. I used to spend Sunday mornings when I was a kid learning to make stuff with her while making breakfast for us."
Gilbert grinned. " Mom, huh? She must have been one fine ..."pastry chef baker sorta person" if she taught you how to make such wonderful pancakes...she taught you and Alfred how to cook?"
" Yeah, well. Al can cook, but he's kinda lazy about it. Mom used to worry about how he and Dad were coping without her home cooking. She forgot that Dad was a huge director by then and could afford a housekeeper , servants and a chef in the house...." Matthew laughed slightly." Mom always did have this thing about forgetting that Dad could take care of himself...."
Gilbert glanced at Matthew, and was surprised to see a look of cynicism on his face. He attempted to change the subject. "So...you and your mom are close, huh?"
" Yeah. After the divorce, Mom moved back to Canada and I wanted to stay with her, so I did. Al and I were about 13 when that happened. Al remained with Dad in LA ."
" Ouch. Sorry about that."
" It's okay, Al and I saw each other every month, and during holidays, we'll either vacation in US, Canada or overseas. We're close, but sometimes I think he forgets about me when I'm back visting the house in LA."
" I don't think I could handle that , not seeing Ludwig every day. He and I are the only ones left."
" Oh, dear....I apologize."
" No biggie, milady. It was an accident and Ludwig and I were pretty young when that happened. Didn't see them much, they were always travelling around .Was raised by my grandpa. "
" Grandpa?"
" Yeap. Opa Lukas raised us the most, but then we got visits from Uncle Fritz .Now that was an Uncle you can miss. That man taught me a lot...besides Uncle Romulus , of course."
" Uncl-you know Principal Vargas?!"
" Well, he's my boss , after all...."
" Erm...I meant..."
" Haha, milady, the blush on your face as you try to correct yourself is priceless."
" Ngk"
" No worries. Romulus is his first name. He and Opa were good friends in the army....at least I think they were good friends, Opa always did seem a bit exasperated with him. In any case, he visited every few months when I was a kid...taught me a few moves too. He's a black belt, first dan, you know."
Matthew could imagine it, a four year old Gilbert, his face red with concentration, trying his best to attempt a high kick and imitate the taller , dark haired stocky man. It was almost adorable.
" Anyway, Uncle Romie liked to visit Opa and play with me too, called me " Aquila" cause I was obsessed with eagles when I was a kid. Course, that was all back in Germany. Uncle Romulus then came here to start his school. He had a pair of twin grandsons two years later....really cute too... he brought them over to visit a few times when they were about 4 or 5...."
Matthew thought back to Feliciano Vargas and the boy he had seen sitting next to him, the rather grumpy looking one. " Funny, they don't really look alike...."
"Fraternal twins, they are. In any case, Ludwig was born around a few months later than they were...Wouldn't believe that he's actually younger than Felici, eh?" Gilbert grinned, thinking back to the many times he had teased West about it. " Before that, though, our family and I lived in East side of Berlin. After the Berlin Wall fell, we moved to West Berlin and had a good few years, Ludwig was born then. Then when he was one, our parents left us to Opa to tour the world as UN Peace Keepers. " The expression turned slightly soft, " I don't miss them much, and Opa did say they died in combat...."
There was a silence. In a bid to change the subject, Matthew said, " So ...how did you end up here, anyway? Germany's pretty far from here ."
Gilbert smirked, albeit sadly." Grandpa passed on when I was 20. That was five years ago. He had already given me and Ludwig separate trusts for our future and we were pretty much well provided for. But...it was kinda a big loss, ya know? He was our guardian, after all. Then, Uncle Romulus came back..."
"Aquila." came a small, baritone voice that came in from the kitchen door. Gilbert , clad in black, didn't need to look up to the owner of the voice. He merely nodded and the stocky man came in.
" It's been a long time,Aquila. " said the man, shuffling his feet slightly as he tried to think of something to say. Gilbert nodded, silent from grief.
The older man , still young for his age of 58, shuffled to place a hand around the younger man's shoulders." He had a full life, kid. Served his country, led his men to combat, raised a family and kids and Grandkids," (tilting his head towards a family photo. )gave back to his community, and taught you so much in fighting and morals. You've grown into a fine young man, Gilbert. And so has Ludwig."
Gilbert had no idea whether to laugh or cry at that statement.
"In fact, considering his age, I think that God above "( now making a cross with his hands) has a place for him to help lead his warriors. You can imagine, him shouting at the troops and making them do pushups...."
Now Gilbert did sort of choke ,but he was doing so out of amusement. He could actually imagine Grandpa Lukas doing so, shouting at a few white winged angels and complaining that Heaven was too soft on its inhabitants, making sure that all of they rolled out of bed at 0500 hours to do exercises.
Romulus Vargas laughed too. " Yes, that was always Lukas." Evidently he had seen the exact same picture in his mind's eyes.
The two men laughed for a while, finally sitting down to support their trembling legs from the laughter. Gilbert then grew solemn and looked at Romulus. " What about Ludwig? He's only 14...they won't take him away from me, right?"
Romulus nodded. " Evidently, I was there when your Opa wrote his will. Far from letting the authorities take your brother away, he had specifically requested that you have legal guardianship of him, provided you were 18 at the time of his death."
Gilbert was stunned. " He made me a guardian? I always thought he said I was an irresponsible, arrogant, cackling..."
" Narcissistic, crazy ,incorrigible, loony, cocky ,foolish, foolhardy...." Romulus continued.
" I get it, I get it!"
"He also said that you were also one of the best people to bring up Ludwig. " Romulus murmured softly, ruffling the man's head." He meant it, boy. You know he did."
" Oh." Gilbert intoned softly.
There was a soft knock, and a tall , gangly boy walked in. He was all knees and elbows, and his hair fell into his eyes, giving him an awkward appearance, as though he did not know where to put his arms and elbows. He shyly bowed to Romulus, then turned to Gilbert. " Bruder, the lawyers are looking for you."
" I'll be there in a second, Westen." Said Gilbert, smiling slightly." Go to the store and get a pint of milk first, please?"
The awkward boy nodded, then walked out the door.
" Gilbert, what are you going to do now, then?" said the brunette, pushing out of his chair to walk to the fridge.
Gilbert said, " I have to leave my part time job. It's not going to raise enough money for me and Ludwig . So I'm going to forego University for awhile and then take up an office job . More steady,and I can do admin work. And I still can put Ludwig through schooling and stuff."
" But what about Ludwig's own welfare? And, for that matter, yours?" Romulus wanted to know. " I don't believe forgoing University is the best idea. In the end, you have your life to consider too, not only Ludwig's. Besides, you're in your second year already. I don't really think it's time you quit yet."
Frustrated, Gilbert tightened his hand into a fist, as though he had gone through the argument again and again in his head. "It's not what I want to do, but it's the only thing I can do , at the moment. Anyway, I'm all Ludwig's got left. And he's all I've got left. I'll do anything to make sure he succeeds. It won't do well anyway. We need to earn a living, and I need to raise Ludwig."
Romulus chuckled. " Well, you have to see the lawyers for that stuff. Besides, if you need to earn and raise a 14 year old teen, you might as well do it near someone who can help."
Gilbert looked up, confused." Meaning?"
"... And that was when he offered me the job." Concluded Gilbert, taking a bite out of his pancake dripping with maple syrup. " I moved a few months later, along with Ludwig here and continued my university stuff with the university here, while Ludwig enrolled in Hetalia International. Did some admin work for the principal part time, graduated, then came to work for him fulltime." He smiled." He's a great man, Romulus Vargas is. "
Matthew , entranced by the entire story, asked, " How did you cope? I mean, it's a long way from home...and this place is nothing like Europe was..."
" I tell myself that this place needed my awesome presence and I deal with it." Gilbert grinned. " Why get used to the place when you can get the place used to you?" He went back to take a swig of his water from the bottle." Besides, the important thing is, it's for Ludwig's own good. And I'll do anything for Ludwig. Even move to a strange place which still hasn't gotten used to me."
The blonde sat there, stunned by the revelations of the older man. He was so cocksure, so swaggerish, yet there was a heart beneath that cackling facade. A good heart, nevertheless. He was beginning to see the real heart behind that man.
A brief silence later, and Gilbert had to break Matthew's impression of him." So...are you making more pancakes, or do I have to remind you that you said you'll make me pancakes everyday?"
" If you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it, if you like it then you shoulda put a ring on it...." muttered Ludwig as he continued to walk through the forest, armed with a stick and a fierce demeanour, masking his extreme nervousness as he walked down one path. Singing tended to calm him down . Unfortunately, he didn't think some of the songs he actually knew the words to were cheerful enough to make him less nervous so he picked the first song that came to his head, which happened to be a song that Gilbert sang when he drove around in his car.
While it was quite embarrassing to sing a song about single ladies, he was comforted by the fact that at least Feliciano was not there to hear him. It wasn't as though his baritone voice was good enough to sing something like that anyway. He was quite lucky that Feliciano did not see his earlier performance with Donald either. That would have been quite a bit of a disgrace.
He seriously needed a cookie....
Suddenly, a silver flash appeared out of the corner of his eye, and Ludwig quickly turned around , trying to catch a glance of the flash.
There was nothing there. Yet....Ludwig could feel himself getting colder and colder....He shivered. Damned the path of the road less taken!
The flash occurred again, and Ludwig held on harder to his stick, ready to arm himself against intruders, yet also hopeful that it was his brother that was the cause of the silver flash. With much apprehension, and holding on to the stick, he took one more step, only to jump a foot mile when he felt an icy cold hand touch his shoulder. He then reacted by turning to swing the heavy stick, only for the stick to be stopped mid-swing by a large , pale hand, belonging to a familiar face which he wished he did not have to see even in these circumstances.
" Braginski?! " yelled Ludwig in shock. He then quickly looked at the stick, and threw it off. " What are you doing here?"
The large boy smiled, although Ludwig felt that his smile had held a touch of deviousness to it, and he ran a hand through his silver blonde hair. This made Ludwig realised that the silver flash he had seen was from the Russian's boy silver blonde hair though it was clearly more blonde than the silver tone of his brother's spiky hair.
" It's Ivan, Friend Ludwig! Please, do not concede to refer to me by surnames. It is such a cold reference to one who should be good friends with each other!" beamed the boy. He placed his larger arm around the German boy , who started shivering uncontrollably despite the heat and humidity. While he certainly respected the big , Russian boy, he knew that Feliciano still ran away from him crying with every encounter with the giant Russian boy. And he himself had had encounters with the boy while waiting with Feliciano for Lovino and the Spanish Teacher / Gardening Club Teacher IC to come out of the club meetings. All he could say was, Braginsk-no, Ivan was friendly, yes. But also unnerving. It was really out of his line of reasoning as to how he was one of the best gardeners in the Gardening Club.
The big Russian boy continued, " Well, we are in the island for a week, and it is inevitable that we would run into each other at one point or another....." He pointed to a video camera, which seemed out of place and small in comparison to his big hand ." And I am doing the project that we are assigned to, da? I am trying to find a guest star for my Tv show..."
" Oh right, the third task..." he muttered , struggling to look normal and calm. Inwardly, his brain cautioned softly. Look normal and calm, and somehow run away from the boy when he's not looking. No , that was Feliciano's way of doing things. Somehow politely make an excuse to leave. Yes, that was it. Make an excuse to leave politely....
" So, with such trouble , I believe that you would be perfect for my guest star for my TV show, da, Friend Ludwig?" Ivan beamed while the camera he held in his large hand loomed threateningly over Ludwig's head. Before Ludwig could react, a saviour emerged as they both heard a little rustle of the bushes and a sort of sound made by a rather unsuspecting someone behind them. It seemed to be some sort of warbling, perhaps a song being sung.
" Par.......Ree holds the key to your heart......." The rather deep sort of warbling was, rather than just any unsuspecting person, happened to be another familiar person with shoulder length blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a habit of playing photoshop with his background as Ludwig could faintly see golden rose petals surrounding an Eiffel Tower.
The reaction by the audience was astounding . One minute there was Ivan , standing in front of Ludwig, the next he had mysteriously disappeared and had managed to somewhat appear, ghost like, in front of Francis. The next sound Ludwig heard was an uncharacteristic squeak , or some sort of scream, and Ivan had grabbed Francis by the waist and had run off, Francis now over his shoulder, screaming his lungs out.
Amid the screams, Ludwig could hear Ivan yell, " I'll see you again, Ludwig! And by the way, I'm Ivan! Don't call me Braginski anymore!" And then he was gone, disappearing into the woods.
Ludwig was stunned for a few minutes, before he realised that there was nothing more he could do for the French boy. He shrugged and picked up his stick, walking off into the forest. Just another weird occurrence in his life that he could do less of.
" No way! You can't be saying that The Simpsons is better than Family Guy! You got to be kidding me! Everyone can see that Family Guy is just a copycat of The Simpsons! You've got a deadbeat dad, a long suffering wife, a mischievous son and a outcast daughter, not to mention a baby that is actually smarter than anyone else would see! The Simpsons are the originals in cartoons!"
" Now , you're deluded." Gilbert scoffed, slowly but surely reaching out for a pancake on Matthew's own plate. " The Simpsons may be originals, but Family Guy takes their jokes to the limit. Stewie, for example, is one of the best criminal masterminds ever! Did you see that punk baby on the Simpsons doing that? "
" Maggie is NOT a punk baby. " Matthew retorted." She just has spiky hair. Like Lisa."He reached a hand to quickly slap Gilbert's own so that he could avoid taking the pancake. " And that's my pancake! I fed you 5 already!"
" Aw....gott, Milady, fair is fair! I entertain you with my awesome presence and near told you my life story, so give me a pancake already!"
" Oh , hush, you insane , crazy maple syrup maniac." Matthew scolded." Look, if you don't behave yourself, we won't have any pancakes tomorrow. We're running out of pancake mix as it is."
" Tch! You shouldn't let stuff like that get you down!"Gilbert rationalized. " Besides, it's your turn!"
" Quoi?"
" Don't try and canadianize me. Your back story! I told you mine, so it's yours now!"Gilbert demanded, a gleam in his eye.
Aghast, Matthew flailed his arms." I can't tell you my life story! I don't even know where to start! It's too long!" His eye caught on the pancake and he said, " Ooh, look, I'm kinda full...do you want that pancake, Gil ? I can't finish it!"
He hoped that this would take the attention off him and distract the older man from him.
Unfortunately, that didn't do the trick.
" Unfortunately, that didn't do the trick, Milady Canadian."
Damn, he knew it was a distraction ploy!
" I'm not some sort of storytelling machine!" He flailed.
"Okay, we'll do it 20 questions sorta style." Gilbert said, trying to reach forward and wincing.
" Full Name?" Gilbert asked.
" I was christened Matthew Jonathan Jones."
" Why the name change? You're Williams now, eh?"
" Okay, I'm Matthew Jonathan Williams, I legally changed my name after I moved back with my mom."
" Oh my god, you're one of those switcher namers!" Gilbert mock gasped." You can be Williams one day, Jones the next, Jonathan one day, Matthew the next....that's kinda cool! You can be a spy!"
" Oh shut up."
Suddenly, Gilbert turned serious. " Why with your mom, anyway? I mean, it was a divorce, right? I mean, that's got to hurt, but there was no need to separate you and your brother..."
" Oh no, that was my choice."
Gilbert looked at the smaller blonde in surprise.
" Yeah well, my family was kinda shocked too...."
" Mathew?" His mother walked into the room her sons shared , confronting the small form of her son curled up on his bed, nearly swallowed up by the giant form of a giant Husky, which raised its head in acknowledgement of his master. The smaller boy turned over and sat up, blue purple eyes mirroring the ones in his mother's face.
" Kid, I saw the letter you drafted on the kitchen table regarding your change of schools...exactly what did you and Alfred argue about this time?" Bridget Jones sighed as she placed her hand on Matthew's own to ruffle it.
Matthew, at the age of 13 and a half,looked at his mom straight in the face with solemn , fairy like, 13 year old eyes, and whispered. " You, Mom."
She blinked , as Matthew continued, " Mom, I know...about the divorce and stuff...there was no need to keep it from me and Alfred."
There was a brief silence in the air as Bridget Jones registered what her son had said. Finally, she managed to rustle out something to ask her son." You and Alfred figured it out already? How long?"
Matthew replied, " Well, Alfred hasn't really figured it out yet, but he knows that something's wrong with you guys. But for me, I'll say it's been about what, 6 months already?"
Bridget blanched slightly, but she immediately recovered her expression, all the while reassessing her son . He's smarter than he looks...
He continued, " In any case , you and dad are separating and you're going back to Canada. The letter is so that you can start the paperwork to transfer me over to a new school in Ottawa . Its a rather good one with a good reputation, and I can go to a good college after that-"
" Woah, woah, woah!" His mom said, holding her hands out in a bid to stop the flow of words. " Sweetheart, when did I say that you were moving with me to Canada? You have a life here, with your father, your brother and all your friends..."
" And I hate it if you leave without me!" Matthew shouted, sitting up straighter than ever and looking very earnestly into his mother's eyes. "Mom, seriously. You need me in Canada! Alfred has his life here, he's more independent than I am, he can cope with anything! But I'm selfish, mom! I want to be with you , and if you and dad don't love each other anymore, I'm going to make sure you still have a reminder of him every day with you! You're not going to run away that easily!"
The taller, blonde woman was at a loss of words, as her own son poured out his own fears and thoughts. So that's what he thought happened between us? Tears poured out of her eyes as she looked at her son again, this time with new eyes. Matthew, seemingly embarrassed, turned away from his mother, fighting back tears that hinted at a well of emotions pooling deep below the surface of purple blue eyes.
Gently, Matthew's mother reached out to tuck a curl behind her son's ear." Oh, son...you've got it all wrong... we're divorcing cause your father and I still love each other..."
Matthew frowned , rubbing his eyes ." Mom, I'm not five anymore. "
" No, I'm serious, my dear boy. With many people, they have enough love that they can live and support each other throughout their lives. With your father and me..." she hesitated, trying to find a way to explain herself better. " With your father and I...we love each other too much...so much that we can antagonise each other with all that love brings us....jealousy, greed, anger ...In any case, what happened was that too much love can lead us to result in hate...and with your father's new career and all, it's going to be very hard for us to love each other and trust each other properly now, even with the amount of time we have spent together. Think of it as a need to separate ourselves before we do something damaging to ourselves."
Matthew nodded , looking into the distance seriously for awhile before going back to his mother's face ." Then must you speak of one that loved not wisely, but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought, perplexed in the extreme."
Bridget could smile at her son and say, " Yes my son, a lot like Desdemona and Othello. You've been reading the text."
" Only for literature..." Matthew rolled his eyes." My literature class is ever so boring...."
She could only smile. " So you understand when I say that Mommy needs to leave, right? Your dad and I will still be friends, and it's going to take a lot to get me out of you and your brother's lives, you know that?"
" Mom." Now Matthew looked at his mother straight in the eyes, violet against violet. " I'm coming with you, no matter what. It was a deal from the start. And its my choice. So I'm coming along with you."
Before Bridget could say anything, Matthew quickly started talking, " And I'm going to take your name , Williams, and I've started researching schools nearby so that I can go and study there ...there's this place that has an excellent literature programme ...and I've even bought a few books....believe me , mom. It's going to be a blast. And no, I'm not running away from my problems or anything, I just want to be with you. I'll talk to Al everyday and email him , and I'll call dad too, we won't be too busy for each other...."
" Son." She murmured, hugging her son tightly against her bosom. " You're so decisive now! Where's that timid , sweet boy that let his brother do everything for him? "
Matthew looked up to his mother and hugged back. " You and dad raised me, mom."
"So I moved to Ottawa with mom and Al stayed with dad back in LA. " said Matthew, stoking the fire and watching the fire crack and pop. " I talked to dad, who understood my decision and Al was alright after a few crying sessions. "
Gilbert himself was quiet. This was even more major than he thought . " It must have been sort of crappy when you were moved to this country, huh?"
" Well, not really. Dad was starting on this new school anyway, and mom thought it was a great opportunity to send me to study with my brother. It's for my own good, and there's a good writing programme here in Hetalia International..."
However, Gilbert could feel that Matthew was suppressing his feelings again. " Be honest, Milady."
The boy sat there, and Gilbert , for the first time could see that the smaller boy , who had tried to put on a mask of easy-goingness, was in actual fact, upset over the decision. " I sometimes felt as though she was abandoning me , sending me here with dad. Besides, I may have only stayed there for 5 years, but Ottawa...with mom and Huckleberry and all....That was MY home. This place..." gesturing at their surroundings . " This isn't it. It's so totally different. The weather sucks, I'm sweating all the time, I hate having to stay inside all the time, lowering the temperature all the time with the air conditioner so it becomes colder, and ...."now he was at a loss, trying to find a way to explain his exact feelings. " It's just not Ottawa." There. He said it.
Both of them stared into the distance, trying their best to break the silence, but failing rather badly, for both of them couldn't think of anything. Finally, Gilbert mustered up a sound. " My Uncle Fritz once said that home was not necessarily a place where you lived, you know. Sometimes, you can be moving around the world and you can't go back there, due to times, places and circumstances changing so much. Instead, home was a more metaphysical thing, ya know?"
Matthew frowned. " Explain."
" Well...Uncle Fritz was a roamer...he couldn't stay in a place long enough for him to settle down and raise kids,but he always said home was wherever your heart felt complete. You can be in the crappiest place at the most crappiest times, but you can still call it home when your heart was feeling full."
Both of them stared at each other before Gilbert started laughing. " Uncle Fritz never really made much sense, you know? "
They both laughed at that, but Matthew stopped laughing first, turning earnestly at Gilbert and saying, " It's not so bad now, this place. Guess it's good to have a friend to talk about everything, right?"
Gilbert smiled, genuinely smiled. " Yeah well, we're awesome that way. Now pour some of that Maple syrup here, I'm gonna make a toast!"
" You can't drink maple syrup from the bottle like that! You'll get diabetes! GILBERT!"
And there was laughter , so much mirth and warmth, so much happiness in that small group of two.
" Lonely... I'm Mr. Lonely....I have nobody....for my own...DAMNIT! BRUDER! WHERE ARE YOU?"
Argh-tor's notes: God...from now on, just ignore me when I promise stuff. I'm just gonna send the chapters up when I can.
Has anyone eaten Lebanese food before? I 'm watching TV and they were showing these crepes, which, in my opinion, look absolutely delish. They have cheese, pesto , fruit and EVERYTHING! My recommendation is...if you haven't eaten Lebanese food, eat it.
I also recommend Indian Paneer, which is some sort of cheese that's eaten with bread that resembles naan.....yums galore.
So you guys have Matthew and Gilbert's backstories, which explains why they are in a strange country, Gilbert out of necessity, Matthew ...because he was sent there. My best friend's not happy that I killed off Opa Lukas, but it was necessary, I swear! If not, Gilbert and Ludwig would be stuck in Germany for the rest of their lives, and Ludwig wouldn't have met Feliciano and Gilbert wouldn't have met Matthew!
And here we have three unexpected guests from the other teams! Seriously, they were really unexpected....they just appeared out of nowhere. I loved Donald, and he had to appear sooner or later in the story. And Ivan's kidnapping of Francis has a reason.....the next chapter is ANOTHER SPECIAL OMAKE! ( TA –DA-DA DA!!) and you gotta believe me when I say....it's gonna be an American Idol Special Omake! Yes, imagine .....Heracles and Sadiq will be singing !
So...as the theme of the competition will be 90's Boy bands.......It's time for you.....YES YOU! The Readers! You're gonna tell me what you want them to sing during the competition!
The contestants will be as follows:
Yao
Natalia
Iskandar ( He's the nation of Malaysia):
Heracles
Sadiq
And Francis ( But he's not really a contestant)
The others not mentioned will be....yes...you got it......JUDGES. Two teachers and two students as judges.....It's sorta scary to have Ivan as a judge....Kiku would be a bit like Paula.....Roderich would make a great Judge....more on him next chapter...and we still have Elizaveta! Oh no!! What are we going to do?! Well.....until next time!!!!
Review, pretty please? You don't wanna leave Luddikins in the Road Less Taken with crazy people, right?