Author's Notes
(~)
Alright so because of various real life things this chapter is pretty late and it's also more of a transition chapter than anything. Updates will probably continue to be slower until I'm done with thesis edits this round. Real life, man. Why you gotta be how you are.
( ~)
The Fall of Adam:
Emp(a)thy
(~)
It was black as pitch by the time they made their way back to the manor. All that remained of the tents were several holes in the ground, which Ludwig did not discover until he stepped in one and nearly broke his ankle. Gilbert had laughed at that, the noise giddy and wild and nervous and yet Ludwig did not have the heart to quiet him. The whole way back Gilbert had stolen furtive touches to his wrist and arm, and the moonlight caught the look of terrified joy on the young lord's face as he smiled and cast little shy glances up at Ludwig. Ludwig couldn't help but return them, his lips still sparking from that brief moment of contact under the apple trees.
Light from the manor windows spilled out onto the grass and the marble steps, and Ludwig stopped just shy of the yellow glow, the tips of his shoes still in shadow. Gilbert stopped next to him, blinking owlishly as he craned his neck to try and peer through the windows.
They had both been completely silent the entire way back, and Ludwig could only assume it was nervousness on Gilbert's part as well that was staying his tongue. The orchard seemed distant, a foggy island Ludwig was afraid to swim towards and explore. Gilbert's quiet voice asking so many questions that he had not a single answer to. Silence and a soft brush of fingers against soft skin had been all that he could manage, and even then, standing in front of the manor with only the thought of what he had done to preoccupy him, Ludwig still felt adrift. But it wasn't the unpleasant sort of lost that had nearly drowned him before. This was buoyant and playful and yet he could still feel the danger the altitude promised. He simply chose in that moment not to look down.
The sound of laughter and piano playing drifted from an open window, and Ludwig could hear Eliza's sparkling laughter and the Earl's booming voice as they attempted to sing along. The party had continued without them, and Ludwig could not be more grateful. Normalcy was what they needed to mask every little grass stain on their clothes and the flush that had taken hold of their cheeks.
A slight rustling to his right prompted Ludwig to glance down at the young lord, and he was greeted to a nervous smile and wide, red eyes.
"I am horrible at acting," Gilbert said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "They will see through me in a second, I just know it…"
"You little liar," Ludwig said, a wry look on his face. "You are the best actor I know and I am sure you will charm them to the point where any damning questions they have will be forgotten in an instant."
Gilbert laughed, the noise far more unsteady than it had been before.
"I suppose you would know, wouldn't you. Stuck with me as you've been," he murmured absently, standing on tip-toe to attempt once more peek into the room as best he could. "Blast, I can't see a damn thing… Can you, Goliath?"
Ludwig shook his head and murmured back, "Not much more than you can, David. Although I suggest we dispense with the Biblical nicknames and head inside. No good will come of us loitering out here like men shuffling their way down a back alley and trying to look discreet."
"Is that what I am to you? A back alley aficionado?"
Gilbert's teasing voice sounded mildly injured all the same, and Ludwig was at a loss for words for a long moment before he mumbled, "I don't know what you are, and answering that question will most likely require a good deal more self-introspection and long, brooding walks to clear my head." He tensed as his side grew warm from Gilbert's body pressing slightly against his, and when the young lord spoke Ludwig closed his eyes, not wanting to risk looking at him. He was sure his nerves would take hold of him and spill every last thought that crossed his mind.
"Is that why you were so quiet after—afterwards?" Gilbert asked softly, his voice so full of disappointment and heartbreak Ludwig immediately felt a monstrous spike of guilt pierce him. "You left me so confused and happy and yet you seemed so sure of yourself that I could not help but trust you. That you thought of me the same although you could not voice it –"
"I do," Ludwig said quickly, unable to bear any longer the sound of Gilbert's pained confusion. "I do. At least I think…"
"…You are not exactly inspiring confidence, farmhand. Which is it?" Gilbert deadpanned, clearly trying to hide his hurt.
Ludwig groaned quietly and pressed a hand against his face, some of the panic he had been skillfully repressing for some time bubbling back up to the surface to mingle with all of the other little nasties resting in his subconscious and waiting for him to let down his guard.
"I am at heart a man of action and not word, Gilbert," he said quietly. "Trust in my actions if you cannot bring yourself to trust anything else. I would not blithely indulge in such a risky endeavor."
"…Very well," said Gilbert, and it was clear from his voice that he was sulking slightly, even if Ludwig could not see him. "Then you may have to indulge me with more actions before that trust can be won. You are not the only one at risk, farmhand, and of the two of us I have far more to lose should more than glowworms shed their light upon what transpired."
"I understand," Ludwig said quietly, finally opening his eyes and resting his hand cautiously upon Gilbert's shoulder, unsure if the gesture would be appreciated so close to an open wound. Gilbert stiffened, but did not fight the touch, and after a moment he smiled up at Ludwig, his eyes tired.
"Today has been very confusing," he said, leaning his head against Ludwig's arm. "I would very much like for it to be over and all of this muddy business clarified tomorrow. For the record."
"I will do my best," said Ludwig. Clarified. Actions would not suffice then. He would have to stop hiding behind them and force himself to put a name to things…
A sharp noise from above made the two quickly part just before Eliza stuck her head out of the window and peered down at them.
"Mr. Schmidt! Gilbert! Auntie Lisa wants you to come inside now and stop being irresponsible!"
Gilbert scowled but called up, "We will be there shortly, no need to yell!"
Eliza stuck out her tongue and retreated back inside, a roar of laughter following her disappearance.
Gilbert let out a heavy sigh and hung his head.
"What would I give to have a peasant's house that provided some modicum of privacy," he grumbled. "I should follow in the good Antoinette's footsteps and order a small fake village constructed for myself, filled with empty houses and chickens. Only chickens. You could come visit too, I suppose. As long as you helped me tend to the chickens and did not tell anyone else were my secret villa is hidden."
"I would not recommend following in her footsteps too closely, unless you would like to meet her end as well," Ludwig gently teased, although the thought of heading back inside with so many prying eyes and flapping lips made him nearly sick with worry. The staff already had their suspicions, if their odd behavior in the kitchen was anything to go by. Now that there was actually a secret to be kept he dreaded to think of the ruin it could cause them should some overly inquisitive soul pry too deep. Even though he wasn't entirely sure what the secret itself comprised…
Gilbert flashed him a startled smile, his red eyes lighting up.
"I forgot how educated you are. The clothes… they tend to throw me," he said lightly, laughing when Ludwig gently shoved him. The young lord took a few tentative steps towards the staircase and then finally seemed to resign himself to his fate. He trudged up them one by one, Ludwig following at a polite distance.
The manor proper was well lit with both candles and the newly installed overhead electric lights (newly being nearly a decade ago by then, but the staff still talked about them as though they were a grand new invention), creating a warm inviting glow that Gilbert seemed to take a personal offense to as he glared and scowled and stormed down the hallway like a small child in a tantrum. He led them into the music room where the extended family was gathered, and it was not until Ludwig caught sight of Eliza's mother and father seated on one of the couches that he remembered the initial cause of Gilbert's panic today. The engagement had completely fled his mind, buried underneath more pressing concerns.
Another thing to clarify tomorrow. The list continued to grow.
Outwardly Gilbert did not react at all to the presence of his family and fiancé, and merely took his place in a chaise lounge that ran along the window. Ludwig stood awkwardly by, noting the absence of other staff in the room. Gilbert seemed to take notice of his uncomfortable position, and with a little wave of his hand bade him closer.
"You play the piano, yes?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the duet Vash and Eliza were playing. The other family members cast him odd looks, but their attention was soon averted when Vash hit a wrong note and let out a loud curse of frustration.
Ludwig shook his head and said softly, "I have some mild familiarity with the cello, through an odd act of providence, but nothing more."
Gilbert clicked his tongue in disappointment, his red eyes drifting up to stare idly at the gilded ceiling.
"Then you will be useless here. You may retire to your room until I ring for you to help with the usual night routine. I imagine there are some sweets left over from the party quickly being devoured by the gluttons in the downstairs rooms. Feel free to help yourself."
Ludwig gave a polite bow, doing his best to ignore the unpleasant cold feeling seeping through him at Gilbert's dismissive attitude. He had not been lying when he had said earlier that the boy was a talented actor. The way he could switch his moods so abruptly, from doting to distant in the blink of an eye was startling and now upsetting in a new unpleasant and angry way it hadn't been before.
"Very good, my lord. Thank you," Ludwig said quietly, turning to leave. He caught Lady Horschhorn smiling at him, and he did his best to return it as he all but fled the room. He shut the door to the parlor behind him and took a moment to compose himself. He was sure his face was both ashen and beet red in a kind of horrible contradiction and he had no desire to face the rest of the staff so compromised.
Once calm, he quickly made his way to the staff rooms, ignoring all inquisitive glances cast his way. It was far past the normal time for the footmen and lower staff to be retired to their rooms, but the hustle and bustle of the party and the plethora of discarded alcohol and sweets and breads leftover had caused a large crowd to gather in the kitchen. Several of the staff were playing cards, and Ludwig did his best to be unobtrusive as he gathered some things from the sideboard that was practically groaning under the weight of all the food. He knew that when Gilbert had asked him to 'help himself,' the young lord had really been requesting that he bring something to his room that night. The code was crude and simple but Gilbert's strict mother and the even stricter Kirkland had yet to catch on.
"Hey, Schmidt. Where'd you get to? We could've used you to help finish bringin' down the tents."
Ludwig glanced over his shoulder as he was addressed, the voice belonging to the rather surly footman Lee was always hanging around. The man's dark completion and crooked nose hinted at some sort of Bohemian heritage, and Ludwig had always done his best to avoid the man. He looked as though he had a temper. His name escaped him at the moment. Alex or Andrei or something to that effect. The lower staff were always addressed by their Christian names, the upper by their surnames. It made things rather confusing for Ludwig, and so he usually chose not to pay any attention at all.
"Lord Gilbert required my presence," he said, straightening up and giving the man a cool stare. "And I did my job by attending him. My help in the kitchens and elsewhere is secondary."
The footman held up his hands, his odd yellowish eyes peering at Ludwig from over a candle.
"Of course, of course. Didn't mean to pry," he said lightly, kicking out a chair. "Here. Have a seat."
"I would rather not, if it's all the same to you," Ludwig said stiffly, but the man snorted in response.
"Sit. You've been here long enough that you only minglin' with the upstairs is startin' to raise some eyebrows. Easiest way to lower them's to get to know everyone, yeah?"
Ludwig pressed his lips in a thin line, but the man did have a point. And Gilbert would ring soon to rescue him, of that he was certain. So with a reluctant sigh he sat down, setting aside the food he had wrapped in a handkerchief for Gilbert.
The man's eyes brightened, and Lee, who was sitting next to him, clapped him on the shoulder.
"Great! We have enough to get another game going," Lee said cheerfully, elbowing Ludwig's side. "What's your pleasure?"
"I'm not overly familiar with cards and other gambling," Ludwig muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, to which the rest of the men chuckled and exchanged looks.
"Well someone is looking to get into the righteous Earl's favor," the first man drawled, shuffling the cards. "Not that I can blame you. He's a good man, if you manage to stay in his graces. 'Course, I've been in his graces for years and look where it's gotten me. Still a footman. Passed over for some hay slinging farm worker."
He flashed a crooked grin at Ludwig.
"No resentment, though. I'd rather be a footman than at the beck and call of Lord Gilbert. Anyone here would."
All the men nodded in agreement, and one of the women leaning against the wall said softly, "Is that why you broke the Earl's favorite glass, Alex? Your lack of resentment?"
The man tensed and shot the woman a look. Ludwig recognized her as the cold blonde maid from before. The one who had so boldly questioned him and Gilbert when they'd left the freezer room. Her blue eyes were staring at him, and after only a moment he had to look away.
"It's none of your business, Bela," Alex growled. "Shut your mouth and stay where you belong."
"Now, now. We're all friends here," Lee said mildly, but there was an undercurrent of warning to his tone. "Just deal the cards, Alex. Bela, you should know better than to bring up old wounds."
Bela merely pursed her lips and took a sip from the drink she was holding.
Ludwig remained silent and still as the cards were dealt and the rules explained in gruff, snappish tones. It was a game he had some mild familiarity with from his days in the reserve, but he had never been one to remember the nuances of card tricks.
They played a few hands in silence, Alex and Lee winning equally until suddenly Alex spoke up again.
"So you know that Spaniard that's visiting? Lord Gilbert's friend?"
All at the table nodded and cast Alex eager looks. The man puffed up a bit at the attention and then lowered his voice. Bela leaned in from her place in the shadows, her blue eyes bright with interest.
"I heard one of his valets say that he's only here 'cause he begged and pleaded with Lord Gilbert to be allowed to attend," he said in a hushed voice. "Now why do you think that is? Haven't seen each other since their school days and yet he's so eager to get himself over here? And requested a room in the family's side of the house, near Gilbert's?"
Ludwig's fingers tightened on his cards slightly, but he played his hand with a blank expression.
The other men shifted uncomfortably, but the curious gleam to their eyes never faded. One of the others piped up.
"I saw the two of them leave together after the engagement was announced. Lord Gilbert looked broke up about it but the Spaniard looked devastated. Unnaturally so, if you ask me."
"Well no one is asking you," Ludwig suddenly snapped, his temper quickly flaring from nervousness. "And it is this type of rumor mongering that causes the upstairs to question their hiring practices."
The table instantly fell silent, but every eye was now trained on Ludwig, several of them narrowing in growing suspicion.
"…What do you know, Schmidt?" Alex finally asked, his voice like honey behind his slightly pointed teeth. "Lord Gilbert must confide in you, you being his valet and all…"
"Confide is the operative word there," Ludwig muttered, setting down his cards to hide the slight trembling of his hand. "If Lord Gilbert were to tell me anything it would be in confidence. Unfortunately for you gentleman, I know when to hold my tongue about my employers and things that do not concern me."
Alex laughed and Lee shot Ludwig a slightly uneasy look.
"That's better than not having said anything at all," Alex said jeeringly, leaning across the table to catch Ludwig's eye. "So it's true, then? About their sick experimentations? When Lord Gilbert was suddenly pulled out of that school we all had to wonder if it was because of his little inclinations, if you catch my drift."
"I do not know exactly what you have heard, but it is not your place to even wonder about it," Ludwig snapped, his temper quickly rising again. "He is a good friend to the son of your employer and as far as I or anyone else knows that is all. These perversions that you speak of are nothing more than a wicked lie thought up to provide some semblance of entertainment to the downstairs. You would do well not to let your mouth get the better of you."
The lie burned his throat, but what else could he say? He himself did not even know the true nature of Gilbert's inclinations or his relationship with Antonio, although their actions did not make it hard to guess at a quiet intimacy that only the two of them knew. And after what had happened in the orchard, Ludwig's doubts about Gilbert's true nature had been proved undeniably true. But what could he do but lie.
Alex's eyes narrowed in anger, but he sat back in his seat, regarding Ludwig with a cool stare.
"You are quick to jump to his defense," he muttered darkly. "Did he order you to silence, Schmidt? Or did you just enjoy watching them so much you –"
"Alex, enough," Lee said sharply, pushing himself up. "Kirkland's going to be back any second and if he hears you trying to pick another fight you'll be out on your arse in the street before you can so much as steal another bottle of wine." He glanced at Ludwig, an apologetic look on his face.
"Sorry about that, Schmidt. Not many here like Lord Gilbert and his personality invites rumors, so…"
Ludwig stood as well, a furious look on his face.
"See to it next time that these rumors are kept far out of earshot from me," he snapped. "I do not care if it shines suspicion upon me, I will not stand for this sort of behavior."
"Oh give it a rest, Schmidt, the rumors are already there and growing," Alex sneered from across the table. "Nothing stays secret in this house and I cannot wait for the day when someone sees through that phony God-fearing exterior of yours to whatever vile core you're hidin' from us."
Ludwig tensed, but said nothing as he turned and left the room, Bela's piercing blue eyes still on him. His retreat would only fuel their suspicion but he knew that if he had stayed it would have come to blows. He had never been so passionate about defending someone's reputation, even though in this sad instance that reputation was well deserved. It still did not mean that Gilbert's life should be on display for all to see, but Alex's words rang true.
It would not stay secret. The odds were so incredibly stacked against that miracle.
Ludwig's feet carried him automatically to his room, and he sat down at his desk, opening and closing his hands to try and regain some semblance of calm. He had been dangerously close to seeing red, the color that had stripped him of all his senses when he had been at war and had made him gifted in a way that he never had wanted.
With a quiet sigh he pressed his hands against his face, his heart rate finally slowing to the point where it no longer rang in his ears. He distantly heard the bell summoning him to Gilbert's room, and after another blessed moment to himself he stood and made his way to the young lord's room. He had barely remembered to grab the handkerchief on his way out, and he had a feeling he would not be enjoying any of the food.
Thankfully he encountered no one on his way to Gilbert's room, and after the first knock the door flew open and Gilbert tugged him inside.
"I thought I would never be able to escape," the young lord groaned, throwing himself dramatically on the bed. "They insisted I teach Rodie this horrendous concerto and my ears nearly bled after numerous failed attempts. They're still in the parlor attempting to console him, he was in tears when I said that Mozart was spinning in his grave. The boy cannot even take a simple joke."
"I see," Ludwig said quietly, setting the handkerchief down and taking his normal seat by the fire.
Gilbert pushed himself up on his elbows and gave Ludwig an odd look.
"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice no longer playfully strident. "You look pale."
Ludwig shook his head and offered Gilbert a tense smile. "Some of the staff were gossiping. I was drawn into it and lost my temper. It was not very dignified and I am sure I looked a fool and only heightened their suspicions."
"That isn't hard, given your propensity to turn red in the face," Gilbert said absently, scooting to the end of the bed to allow his legs to dangle off of the side. He cleared his throat and then asked with affected normalcy, "What were they gossiping about?"
Ludwig shook his head and folded his hands in his lap, a troubled look on his face.
"You and the Spaniard," he said quietly, seeing no point in hiding it. Gilbert would pester him until he broke down anyway and he would rather be honest and save himself the song and dance.
Gilbert fell immediately quiet, and when Ludwig glanced at him the young lord's face was pale and his expression furious.
"Specifics, farmhand," he said tensely. "If you please."
"There is not much more specific I can get," Ludwig said softly. "They were speculating as to the nature of your relationship, but before they could delve into unseemly territory I stopped them. Although now I am quite certain that my reaction has only fueled the rumors surrounding us. Even they are not dim enough to keep from making the connection."
Ludwig fell troubled and silent after that, wondering if it would have been better for him to keep his mouth shut than risk exposing them. Whatever little there was to expose.
The sheets rustled as Gilbert moved, and a moment later the young lord took a seat on the carpet in front of Ludwig, his hands on the older man's knees. Ludwig wearily lowered his head, and was mildly surprised to see a small smile on Gilbert's face. He raised an eyebrow in question but Gilbert merely shook his head and said quietly, "Thank you. For standing up for me."
Ludwig's expression softened, and before he could think better of it he gently ran his fingers through Gilbert's hair.
"How could I not?" he said quietly. "What they were saying wasn't true. I… I think."
His voice was slightly questioning, and Gilbert immediately rolled his eyes.
"Down, farmhand. There's no need to get all excited."
He shifted a bit, obviously uncomfortable before he cleared his throat and said lightly, "I found myself in a situation remarkably similar to the one we just left dangling in the orchard. Only in that long ago instance I was a much more startled and reluctant participant, and when all was said and done I believe I exhausted the contents of my stomach and vertically ascended a nearby shrub in a very dignified manner."
Ludwig fell silent for a moment and then cleared his throat as well.
"You vomited and fled up a tree?"
He laughed when Gilbert hit his arm, a horribly embarrassed look on the young lord's face.
"I was only thirteen!" he protested. "I did not have nearly the sensibilities I do now, and I had never regarded Antonio as anything more than a kind and slightly dimwitted playmate. Even now those feelings have not changed and while I am sure he replays his one moment of glory before being quite enthusiastically thrown up upon, I can assure you I have done my damndest to suppress that horrible memory. I care for Antonio, yes, but it's… complicated."
"Complicated," Ludwig repeated quickly, the smile on his face fading. "Complicated in the same way we currently find ourselves?"
"No," Gilbert said firmly, catching Ludwig's gaze. "No not… not remotely close. Well for a brief moment before the vomiting I… may have indulged in some fantasies and ideas that most likely only served to heighten my nausea but in the end they faded very, very quickly. Gone with that night's dinner, spilled upon the ground like so many moist, putrid jewels."
"Stop," Ludwig said immediately, pressing his hand over Gilbert's mouth, his own stomach churning. "Stop I am begging of you."
Gilbert's eyes shone with amusement but he fell obediently silent, save for a very muffled, "What a delicate flower."
"I am no more delicate than a work horse, but even the strongest stomach instinctively rejects vivid descriptions of bodily waste," Ludwig muttered, not trusting Gilbert enough to move his hand.
Gilbert merely laughed, and a moment later Ludwig felt a warm, damp patch on his palm. He recoiled immediately, flustered beyond belief but Gilbert ignored his quiet flailing and lay down on the pillows in front of the fire, a pensive look on his face.
"If rumors of me and Antonio have already circulated then the cretins move faster than I anticipated," he said, his voice glum. "This complicates an already complicated situation. One that I was hoping to shine some much needed light upon now that all the tittering and flouncing about is done."
"I never tittered," Ludwig muttered, pushing himself out of his chair to join Gilbert in front of the fire. "I am sure you were merely hallucinating. I hear stress will do that to a man."
"Nervous chuckling, then," said Gilbert absently, waving his hand. "Whatever you would like to label that odd series of noises after your bold but not unwelcome transgression." The young lord glanced up at Ludwig, his red eyes flicking back and forth as he studied the older man's features.
"I am going to ask you a question, farmhand. And I expect you to answer it this time and not simply stare at me with moon eyes."
Ludwig shifted uneasily, glancing at the door and calculating his retreat but a strong hand on his wrist stopped him and Gilbert's sweet voice said, "I would knock you unconscious with the fire iron before you could make it. The window too."
Ludwig scowled and shot the young lord a nervous glare but finally nodded.
"Good boy," Gilbert murmured, releasing his wrist and closing his eyes.
Silence covered the room for a long while, only the crackling of the fire providing some sort of reprieve until Ludwig finally coughed discretely.
"Were you planning on actually asking the question or merely expecting me to guess."
"I'm thinking," Gilbert said crossly, lightly hitting Ludwig's knee. "And if you make one joke about me not straining myself you will be locked on the roof with an empty bottle as your sole companion and waste receptacle in one."
Ludwig wisely held his tongue and studied the fire instead to give himself something to do while he waited. He didn't have long, and only a minute or so later Gilbert finally spoke.
"Why did you kiss me?"
Ludwig felt his whole face burst into flame and he quickly cleared his throat again to keep himself from making any noises of embarrassment.
"That's the question it took you ten minutes to construct?" he finally muttered, wincing when Gilbert's pointy elbow connected soundly with his kneecap.
"I am baring my soul, farmhand," Gilbert said snappishly, his own cheeks coloring as well. "I would ask that you treat it a little bit more delicately than your natural boorish instincts would dictate."
Ludwig fell silent after that, rubbing his knee where it still stung. Why had he kissed Gilbert? He had thought the question ridiculously simplistic when the young lord had voiced it but he found himself completely without an answer. There had been a burst of impulse and Gilbert's face had caught the moonlight at the exact right time to feed that quiet voice and he had been left with no other recourse but to kiss him.
Somehow he doubted Gilbert would accept that as an answer.
Ludwig sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes, resigning himself reluctantly to simply telling whatever came to mind.
"I kissed you because you looked beautiful," he said, his voice subdued and defeated. "And because for an idiotic moment you made me forget myself and my position and made me feel as though I no longer needed to hide behind whatever purple words I could construct to keep you close."
An uncomfortable silence muzzled the room before Gilbert finally muttered, "I take offense at your choice of adjectives but that… follows. I suppose."
He cast a glance up at Ludwig, his red eyes wary.
"Did you know I would kiss you back?"
Ludwig shook his head. "I thought you would deck me," he said dryly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Or laugh at me or pretend it was a game and start speaking in riddles and metaphors as you are wont to do when you feel cornered and awkward."
"…Oddly enough those were all my first instincts," Gilbert mumbled, a look of chagrin on his face. "I never thought – I never assumed you would let me indulge myself and my curiosity and it never once crossed my mind that your little covert touches and looks spoke of anything other than something upon which you would never act. Because you are, despite your farmhandedness, a gentleman."
"I am fairly sure gentlemen kiss all the time," Ludwig said quietly, his cheeks pink once more. "Although most likely not each other."
Gilbert let out a bark of laughter and glanced up at Ludwig, a pleased smile on his face.
"I imagine more than you might think wish they had the courage to follow through with those base desires," he said idly, shifting to rest his head in Ludwig's lap. "Or perhaps that is merely my own wishful thinking to attempt to cull my guilty conscious." He sighed quietly and closed his eyes, and Ludwig could not resist running his fingers through Gilbert's soft hair once more, the silken strands whisper soft against his skin.
"I imagine the truth lies somewhere in between," he said, his eyes catching sight of Gilbert's throat as he swallowed.
"Most likely. But I am tired of talking in abstracts and about all of these fancy gentleman who may or may not be kissing each other," said Gilbert. "And I would very much like to speak in concretes but I am extremely nervous that now the requisite magic that dictated our earlier actions has gone and we are left alone with the bluntness of reality and you will realize I have a blemish on my cheek that has been stubborn in its disappearance and that my voice still sometimes cracks when I am nervous and that I will realize once again how painful and rough your fingers are and – stop touching my hair you're making it fluffy – and that your brow is always furrowed and you are eleven years my senior and a thousand steps below me on the list of possible suitors for the next queen and no matter how many times we slip out to the orchard again reality will close in more and more each time until it's all we have left and you won't ever find me beautiful enough to kiss again. Not that I am encouraging your use of the word in conjunction with me, mind you. Merely trying to put it into terms you can understand."
Ludwig listened to Gilbert rant, watching his lips part with every word and the nervous twitch of his cheek, and indeed there was a small, angry red blemish there that he knew Gilbert had been picking at out of impatience.
"You forget that I am more acquainted with you in a half-asleep state threatening to dismember me and feed my intestines to all manner of exotic animals," Ludwig said quietly, brushing the pad of his thumb over the delicate swell of Gilbert's bottom lip. The young lord instantly fell still, and Ludwig could see his chest quivering like a trapped rabbit's.
"Is there a point to this unflattering description of me when I have just been rudely awakened, farmhand, or are you simply being unkind?" Gilbert muttered, opening one eye to glare up at Ludwig.
Ludwig gently pressed his hand over Gilbert's mouth and said, "Yes, if you would ever let me finish."
He heard Gilbert grumble but did his best to ignore the younger man.
"I have hardly ever seen you in a state anyone in their right mind would call even mildly appealing," he said, pretending as though he had not heard the undignified and angry squawk that followed. "You have been rude and insulting and still seem to have difficulty remembering my first name unless it is five in the morning and you want me to steal something for you from the kitchens. But even so, I…"
Ludwig trailed off, his voice failing him now that he had arrived at the part that actually mattered. Gilbert pushed his hand away, a look of poorly hidden anticipation and edginess on his face.
"But you what, farmhand?" he asked, his voice its normal drawling tone despite everything. "The second coming will be upon us before you ever finish a thought properly."
Ludwig summoned up a glare as best he could, but it was a weak attempt.
"But even so I found you beautiful," he muttered, looking away so he would not have to see Gilbert's face. "Even so I wanted you. More than I should and more than I deserve and in every way that assures my life to come will be one of misery and torture far worse than what I endured before succumbing. So much that I selfishly took something from you that I never should have and dragged you down with me. And while that same still selfish part of me wants nothing more than to barricade the door and kiss you breathless I am utterly terrified of what I have already done."
He could feel Gilbert staring up at him, and he tensed, waiting for the younger man's response, whatever it would be.
He did not expect to be mildly slapped.
He pressed a hand to his cheek in surprise, the skin stinging. Gilbert's face was red and he was shaking his hand (which was also bright red) and muttering quietly to himself before he sat back and prodded Ludwig in the chest with one thin and vengeful finger.
"I am not some pathetic damsel in a tower, Ludwig," he said sharply, his tone and demeanor all annoyance. "I am not some wonderfully submissive and innocent girl you stole away without any regard for her own wishes. I have a sense of agency and pride and you are making it sound as though you are the only guilty party when I could have pushed you away or never even let you close or kicked you soundly where I have been told it is unsportsmanlike to kick a man. I was simply too cowardly to speak in anything but riddles and I thank God in heaven you took the first step towards our damnation because in that regard I am a pathetic little child who was too fearful of rejection to speak and act plainly. And if you try and turn that heroic yet admittedly deviant act into something that I had no part in orchestrating I will be utterly furious. I want my credit for sowing the seeds of our joint destruction just as much as I want you to follow through on that incredibly forward impulse that under different circumstances would make me swoon out of pure embarrassment. Am I making myself very, very clear?"
Ludwig blinked slowly and nodded his head. Gilbert looked like a vengeful and indigent crow that had just been upset from a nest, his bony fingers still prodding his chest.
"Good," Gilbert said, finally sitting back with a slightly smug look on his face. "Because I have no intention of abandoning this development or tossing it aside as a mere fluke. Brutal reality or no, that was one of the happiest moments of my sadly deprived life and if you sullied it by playing martyr more than you already do I would be quite upset with you."
Ludwig swallowed heavily, guilt still eating through the logic of Gilbert's words.
"But I'm older, I should have known better than to—"
"Oh for God's sake," Gilbert said in exasperation, and with a quick movement Ludwig was too stunned to follow the young lord had somehow managed to pin him down against the pillows, one slim hand on his chest and a thoroughly put-out look on his face.
"Listen to me, Ludwig Schmidt," Gilbert growled, and the younger man's tone and voice made Ludwig's stomach jump with something other than remorse. "If we are to do this, we are to do it properly. I am not inclined to be charitable, not when I've finally gotten something I very much want, and it is going to be difficult enough keeping everything hidden without your guilty conscious threatening to sabotage my efforts at every opportunity. We are sinners, yes, but if anything that makes us normal, save for the specific nature of our deviance. And if I am to go down for this I would rather drown with someone who is not bemoaning his pitifully weak soul every chance he gets. I want everything to be bright and beautiful until the last when it very much isn't anymore, but we'll worry about it then. And even if this venture turns out to be nothing more than a passing dalliance bereft of all the glorious passionate tragedy I am ascribing to it, I refuse to regret even a moment." He let out a little noise to catch his breath, and Ludwig felt the younger man shift and a heavy weight against his stomach as Gilbert rested against him, one knee on either side of his chest. He glanced up at Gilbert, as though he could have looked anywhere else, his abdomen tightening with pleasure as he took in the look of complete and utter confidence on the younger man's face.
"But I am nothing if not a gentleman," Gilbert continued, grabbing Ludwig's wrists and pinning them against his chest. Ludwig let out a startled noise Gilbert politely ignored. "So I will allow you a moment to decide if you can accept my terms or if you wish to keep wallowing. It would hurt and be beyond annoying but I would let you go if you said."
He leaned down close, red eyes catching Ludwig's blue as he said very quietly, "So I am ordering you to tell me, farmhand. No games. No poetic words or childish sidelong glances. Tell me if you want this."
Ludwig's breath caught in his throat, and he could not remember ever feeling so powerless and small before. Gilbert's voice and posture spoke of nothing but pure desperation, despite the confidence in his voice. And while guilt and longing were vying for supremacy inside his head he could still recognize the wisdom in what Gilbert had said. His guilt would bury them. While Gilbert was willing to be flippant about the severity of their situation he could not afford to be. But that did not mean he had to drown himself in self loathing either.
Ludwig caught Gilbert's eyes, feeling the younger man tense against him in anticipation of his response.
"I want this," he said quietly, condemning the last of his lingering morality, the last of the façade he had spent half his life constructing. It hadn't been doing him much good anyway. Gilbert had seen right through him.
Gilbert studied his face for a long moment before a look of utter relief crossed his own. His shoulders slumped as though a hundred bricks had suddenly landed upon them, and he let out a soft moan.
"Thank God."
He leaned down and pressed his forehead against Ludwig's chest, and after a moment Ludwig wrapped his arms around the slight frame, closing his eyes. He could feel Gilbert trembling, and without thought he pressed a gentle kiss to the younger man's temple.
"What would you have done if I had said no?" he asked quietly, a hint of teasing in his voice.
"I don't know," Gilbert mumbled, long fingers fisting in Ludwig's shirt. "Thrown a temper tantrum and locked you in the wardrobe so you wouldn't be able to see me crying like the little girl I claimed not to be only a moment ago. Or made myself sick with humiliation and spent the rest of the night replaying that moment over and over again in my head until I threw myself from the balcony in utter despair. The usual."
Ludwig laughed softly, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of Gilbert's weight against his chest. The embrace was still a chaste one, but he could feel Gilbert's heart beating and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the soft noises he made when a thought plagued him.
"Then I am very, very glad I said yes," he said softly. "Otherwise I would have had to hear you wax poetic about your vomit for another hour."
He laughed again when Gilbert hit his shoulder, and he quickly caught the young lord's wrist and pressed a gentle kiss to his palm. Gilbert shivered and lifted his head, his cheeks pink and a slight pout tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Your sadistic side is showing," he mumbled, pressing his palm against Ludwig's lips again. "This was supposed to be a beautiful and heart wrenching moment and yet you've gone and made it all about my stupid prose again."
"I have a hard time abstaining," Ludwig mumbled against Gilbert's hand, obediently kissing his palm like he knew he wanted. "You get so flustered and the way you screech 'farmhand' when you are especially put upon… it's poetry—ow!"
He scowled up at Gilbert, who merely looked smug and prodded the teeth marks now adorning Ludwig's index finger.
A serious expression suddenly crossed Gilbert's face, and he glanced towards the door.
"…It doesn't lock," he said quietly, his shoulders stiffening. "And I don't give a damn about the downstairs knowing. They can all rot in hell for being horrible rumor mongering bastards, but there's…"
Ludwig nodded, his own expression grave as he cast a glance at the door as well.
"We'll just have to be careful, then," he said softly, running his hand soothingly up and down Gilbert's arm. "What would you like me to do, though, if someone should ask?"
"Tell them it's none of their business," Gilbert muttered, resting his head against Ludwig's chest again and closing his eyes.
Ludwig let his hand rest on the small of Gilbert's back, feeling him tremble very slightly.
"…What if that someone is your father?"
Gilbert remained silent at that, and when Ludwig chanced to look at him there was a weary look on the young lord's face, and his eyes were staring blankly at the rows of books lining the walls.
"He won't find out," Gilbert finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And after all this… it's no more than it is. Dalliance. He would understand."
"If you say so, then I have no choice but to believe you," Ludwig said softly, not at all confident in Gilbert's words. He closed his eyes, only smiling when he felt a delicate touch to his lips. He opened his eyes once more and stared up at Gilbert, the young lord's face catching the firelight and casting half into dark shadow.
"Tell me I'm handsome again," Gilbert demanded quietly, red eyes seeking Ludwig's.
"You're very beautiful," Ludwig said, his voice completely serious even through Gilbert's childish scowl.
"That wasn't what I asked."
Ludwig shook his head, smiling very slightly, and pushed himself up to close the distance between them. He pressed his lips against Gilbert's, the touch feather light and pure. When he pulled away there was a dazed look on Gilbert's face, and the curve of his lips betrayed him.
"Tell me again?" he asked quietly, bumping his nose gently against Ludwig's.
Ludwig threaded his fingers through Gilbert's hair to keep him close, his eyes slipping shut as he murmured softly for only Gilbert to hear.
They stayed like that long after the fire died, until the sky paled in the east and the first birds stirred and sang their annoyingly invasive songs.
Gilbert fell asleep just as the downstairs was beginning to rise, and Ludwig was loathe to wake him. He carefully pushed himself to his feet, managing somehow to carry the younger man to his bed without upsetting or waking him. He carefully tucked him in, and pressed one last kiss to his brow to smooth away the worried lines that had gathered there. A peaceful look took hold of Gilbert's face, and he mumbled in his sleep before rolling over, disturbing the covers Ludwig had carefully arranged. Ludwig rolled his eyes, but made sure Gilbert was not about to suffocate himself before he finally left.
He closed the door behind him and silently made his way back to his cold room. Only then did he finally give in to sleep, his suit rumbled and his lips chapped from where Gilbert had been.