A/N: Wow, it's been like a month since I updated this story. I'm sorry, friends! Going back and talking about Mathias dying really takes it out of me, agh...but the story will only get happier and cuter from here on out, so do not despair!

The next few months were rather trying for everyone. The Constanza and the Victoria took their three prisoners back to France and turned them over to the authorities. All together, the French awarded them a total of one hundred thousand francs for the disposal of a dangerous man, and the immediate withdrawal of Russian forces from their part of Europe. With the help of a certain French police inspector, they were even willing to overlook Antonio's criminal background.

Arthur sold the Constanza back to its original owner for almost nothing, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be rid of the creaky old ship. After a brief stopover in Paris, Arthur and Alistair took the Victoria back to England for repairs.

A month passed before everyone saw each other again, and then it was in Copenhagen, Denmark, for Mathias' funeral. They all managed to meet up in the bustling port city on a fine June morning. It was beautiful, too beautiful for a funeral. The city swarmed with activity. People ran through the streets, laughing and talking far too loudly in Danish on the warm, breezy day. Boats came and went, delivering fresh catches of the day as the briny wind blew in off the sea. In stark contrast to the bubbling, joyful atmosphere, their group stood somberly at the edge of a pier at the outskirts of the city, overlooking the sea.

Dressed in mourning colors, the former crew of the Santa Maria and the Victoria stood at the pier, listening respectfully as Mathias' adopted brother, a tall, rather taciturn man named Berwald said a few, brief words. His dark blue eyes looked empty as he spoke in Danish. It didn't matter that very few of them spoke Danish. They listened anyway, until Berwald approached Antonio, who stood at the front of their little gathering, and handed him Mathias' hat.

"What…" Antonio began, confused, but then he understood. It was Mathias' sailor hat, from his days before he joined his captain on the Santa Maria. He took the worn hat, a faded blue and white cap with the initials M.K. stitched into the brim, and nodded at Berwald. He walked over to the end of the pier. With a shaking breath, he tossed it into the clear, cerulean waters, and murmured, "Adios, mi hermano." He watched the sea carry it away with a heavy heart. He still couldn't get the image out of his mind, of Mathias' plane igniting like a supernova over the cold Russian landscape. It was seared into his memory, like a scar.

Only a few sniffles broke the peacefulness of the blissful, balmy summer afternoon. One by one, Mathias' friends slowly filed away, until only Antonio and Mathias' adopted family were left.

Berwald hadn't moved in ten minutes. He stared blankly at the water with a distant expression on his face, looking oddly detatched from reality. Leaning heavily on his arm, Tino stared out after him, his normally bright eyes tinged with red. The Finnish man hadn't cried during the ceremony, but the pain was evident in the way he held his shoulders. The two men leaned on each other for support. Next to them stood a small, slight woman, with her arm around the shoulders of a slightly taller boy with snowy hair. They managed to look even more apathetic than Berwald. Antonio knew that the woman was named Ingrid, but he always forgot her brother's name; he had only met them once before. This solemn group of people were his only family, besides his crew mates, and it broke Antonio's heart to see them so despairing. He wanted to offer some words of comfort, but honestly, words had never been his strength. His feelings always got in the way.

After a few more minutes of listening to the tide move in and out, Antonio finally turned his back on the sea, inhaling the strong, salty air. It filled his lungs and reminded him of how lucky he was to be alive. The gathering made their way back to Mathias' old apartment, where the reception would be held. Antonio dimly remembered the train ride back, talking with Vash and trying to concentrate on his steady first mate's words, but he felt so out of it. He still couldn't believe that he was gone. He vaguely remembered consuming vast quantities of rather strange tasting Danish food and beer—it didn't occur to him that beer was not appropriate for funerals until later, and then he had to laugh; it wouldn't have been appropriate if they didn't have it for the beer-loving Dane—and conversing with his crew members in the sun-filled apartment. He gradually made his way over to Lovina, who sat with her sister and Heracles at the table closest to the window, with red-rimmed eyes. She didn't say anything, but covered her hand with hers when he sat down next to her, gently running her thumb over his callused palm. She didn't have to speak. She just tried to convey some small amount of comfort, and he was grateful for that.

A few days later, they split up again. Antonio and Ludwig went to Marseilles to visit his brother Gilbert; Vash went back to Switzerland to recuperate under his younger sister's watchful eyes; the Vargas girls finally returned to Rome, with promises to allow their friends to visit as soon as possible. Tino stayed behind in Copenhagen with his family for a few days before returning to Malmo with Berwald. The Kirkland trio signed up for a three month expedition to South America, joined by Kiku and Toris. Amelia decided to head back to New York for a few weeks to visit her older brother. And so, for awhile, at least, everyone went their separate ways.

At first, it was bizarre being at home, Lovina thought, as she and Feliciana rode in a chaise-and-four back to the luxurious Italian villa they shared with their grandfather. They certainly didn't look too different from the day they had left, nearly six months ago. Lovina looked lovely, if tired, in a high-waisted, midnight blue skirt and cream-colored pinstripe blouse, complete with her soft leather boots and wide-brimmed hat. Feliciana wore a similar costume in red and gold that brought out the warmth in her eyes, although she had managed to tear the hem of her skirt by hanging too far out the opening of the carriage in her excitement to see the villa. The two sisters sat on the same side of the plush seats, watching as the cobbled streets of Rome gradually gave way to the rougher roads of the countryside.

"It's this one," Lovina said to the driver as they approached. She ignored his offer of help as she lightly stepped down from the carriage, smiling slightly as Feli jumped down behind her with some of her former cheerfulness. Remembering her manners, she turned to the driver, curtsied, and said, "Grazie!" before tossing him a few coins. She turned to her older sister with a wide smile and grabbed her gloved hand. "Let's go," she said, her eyes shining. The young women carried their light baggage down the path to the sprawling villa, and Lovina felt her heart soar in her chest when she saw that welcome sight.

Feliciana practically raced up the pathway to the large villa, startling the servants as she skipped over a flowerbed in her haste to get to the front door. Lovina smothered a laugh as she followed behind her at a much more reasonable pace. She didn't bother with the bellpull but marched right in, dumping her bags in the foyer as she cried, "Grandpa Roma?"

Lovina could hear the pounding of heavy footsteps down the grand staircase as she closed the cream-colored doors behind her. "Is that my bambina?" Someone yelled.

Lovina frowned in spite of herself. "I'm here too," she mumbled with a heavy feeling in her heart. She barely had time to take in the familiar scenery of their exquisite home when a pair of burly arms swept her and Feli into a crushing hug.

"Oh, meno Male, you're both safe," their grandfather cried happily, squeezing them so tightly that Lovina was sure her rib cage was going to be crushed.

"Grandpa, ve," Feli squeaked, struggling in his smothering embrace. "Can't—breathe—"

"Ah, sorry," Grandpa Roma said, beaming as he stepped back. "I'm so happy to see my beautiful girls!"

Lovina flushed slightly. She wasn't used to this. Given her surly personality, Grandpa Roma naturally doted on the sunnier Vargas twin, which didn't help her negative attitude. She felt tears bloom in her eyes as she hugged him back, feeling a rush of affection for her grandfather.

"Ah, don't cry, bella," he said, kissing the part in her dark russet hair.

"I'm not crying," she mumbled defiantly, sniffling a little.

"Grandpa, I'm hungry," Feli began plaintively, when it became clear that her grandfather and sister appeared content to just stand in the foyer, holding onto each other.

"Of course, Feli, I'm sorry," he said with a laugh, his handsome features shining with joy. "Giovanni!" He called to the head servant, a redhead dressed in a smart black uniform. The young man approached with a smile almost as wide as his master's. He had been hovering at the base of the stairs, not wanting to interrupt their reunion. "I want you to prepare the finest meal for my granddaughters! And bring out the wine! As much as you can carry!" He added, putting an arm around each girl's shoulder and directing them to the dining room.

"Si, senor!" Giovanni replied with a grin, disappearing into the back of the house, where the kitchen staff worked.

Lovina felt a smile spread across her face as they entered the dining room. The walls were painted a wonderfully warm butter yellow, enhanced by the golden sunlight that poured in from the Venetian windows that lined the south side of the room. The Vargas family's vineyards sprawled across the lush green acres as far as the eye could see. It was amazing how much she had missed this place. Her fingers brushed the delicate linen of the tablecloth as she walked to the head of the table and sat across from her sister as their grandfather laid out their silverware and fine dishes before them. Warm bread and freshly washed fruit decorated the table already, and she tore off a hunk of bread eagerly. She had missed good Italian cooking!

"So, what happened? How did you escape?" Grandpa Roma asked, accepting a generous portion of white wine from a maidservant before turning back to his granddaughters, his normally jovial expression serious. "I had men everywhere looking for you two, for months! I finally received a Paris newspaper a few days ago describing what happened in Moscow, but—"

"We didn't escape," Feliciana interrupted earnestly, between bites of fresh mango. Her brown eyes shone fiercely as she continued, "You have it all wrong, Grandpa! They're not bad people at all…" She rapidly filled him in on the events of the past few months, since that fateful flight across the Mediterranean back in December. Lovina listened contentedly, eagerly accepting a plate of spaghetti from a servant and watched her animated sister explain everything as she twirled pasta around her fork.

Everything was finally right. Her spacey parents were still off on some extended vacation in Liechtenstein, probably unaware that their daughters had gone missing in the first place. Feli was talking a mile a minute and bursting with energy, as usual; Grandpa was nodding encouragingly and agreeing or worrying when appropriate.

Lovina sighed, setting down her utensils and staring out the window at the sunlit acres behind her sister's head, flushed a rosy hue from the setting Italian sun. Yes, everything was as it should be, but she already missed Antonio and her other friends, far more than she cared to admit. After a delicious serving of tiramisu, Lovina excused herself to her room, awkwardly returning the heartfelt greetings of the household servants as she climbed the winding staircase to her room on the second floor.

She sighed with relief upon seeing her old four poster bed and wide bay windows overlooking the luscious countryside. She flopped onto the downy white coverlet, upsetting the stack of letters placed next to her embroidered pillows. She rolled onto her side so she could thumb through them. Some of them were quite dated, from the months she had been away. Giovanni must have saved them, she mused. There were a few from her mother, expressing concern over her absence. Why did you even send them here? She thought, frowning, as she opened one and read about her mother's latest shopping excursion. There was one from their local priest, dating before December that she had forgotten to respond to. And on the top was a blank one, a creamy envelope dated from only two weeks ago, the day she and Feli had boarded their ship back to Italy, in fact. A shy smile stole across her face when she unsealed it and recognized Antonio's bold, flourishing handwriting:

Querida!

I know you probably won't read this for a few days at least, but that's alright! It's strange now that we've all split up. I miss everyone already, but I suppose a break is good. I think we all needed some space. I miss you terribly, but at least I have Ludwig for company. I wish you were in France with us! Have you ever tried escargot? It's disgusting. My friend Francis made us try it. Ludwig said my face was pretty hilarious, but it's hard to tell with him because he smiles about as often as you do. Not that that's a bad thing!

Anyway, we're staying with my friend Gilbert in his flat at Montreuil-sur-Mer. It's pretty, I guess, but I really miss Spain. Oh, but that reminds me! Gil says he knew you and Feli when you were little! I bet you were even more adorable then! Ah, but I have to go now, mi carina. We'll be in Naples in two weeks or so, though, and I hope that I will see you then!

Yours, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo

She laughed a little at his ridiculously flamboyant signature. She shook out the envelope to see if there was another page, but no, it was only that one short letter. Disappointed, she smoothed out the letter to read it again. Two weeks, she thought to herself. I can wait that long.

They arrived in Rome sooner than any of them expected, on a fair June day nearing July. It was deliciously warm out, and everyone seemed to be caught in the same lethargic state that these Italian summers created. Lovina was in the kitchen, lazily devouring the remains of a baguette and reading a book, when she heard the furious cursing coming from the foyer.

"The hell do you think you're doing in my home you bastard I'll kill you dammit-!"

Lovina looked up, startled, from her perch on the kitchen counter at Giovanni, who was dicing up tomatoes to go with their evening salad. "What—" She began.

"I don't know," Giovanni replied, grabbing his chopping knife and heading for the doorway, a concerned expression on his normally cheerful face.

They ran down the hallway to the foyer, and Lovina gave a shocked yelp when she recognized the two men Grandpa Roma was yelling at. Lovina noted with alarm that he was waving a pistol rather erratically in the air.

"You think I don't recognize you, you fucking bandit? I should blow your brains out right now! I—"

"Grandpa!" Lovina exclaimed, running to his side and tugging on his sleeve. "Stop! They're not going to harm us! Grandpa!"

"Giovanni, take Lovina to her room," Grandpa Roma growled, continuing to point his pistol in the face of a certain pirate captain that Lovina found she rather missed. "And ring for the police."

"Si, senor," Giovanni said smartly, but Lovina interrupted, "No! You can't!"

Startled, Grandpa Roma turned his head a fraction to the side and looked down at his imperious little granddaughter with wide brown eyes and repeated, "I can't?"

Lovina felt Antonio's warm green eyes on her but didn't look at him. "You can't. Remember what Feli told you! They've saved our lives, countless times! You can't kill them," she added, gently taking his gun away.

"Ah, thank you," Antonio laughed, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I tried to explain to him, but—"

"You have about as much tact as an American," Ludwig growled from behind him. Lovina scowled when she noticed him there. She wasn't sure how she had missed him; he towered over Antonio where they both hovered anxiously on the Vargas' doorstep, a disapproving expression on his face. "My apologies, Senor Vargas."

"Wait a minute," Grandpa Roma said incredulously. "Is—is that you, Heinrich?" He stared at the German young man before him in slack jawed amazement.

Lovina's eyes flickered between the two men in confusion. Heinrich? No. Hadn't Feliciana specifically said that he wasn't Heinrich? Or that he denied it? Or something?

"Yes, sir," Ludwig said, nodding. "It is good to see you again, sir."

"My boy!" Grandpa Roma said, his demeanor changing entirely. He brushed past Antonio and hugged the much taller young man, nearly crushing him in one of his infamous hugs. "Why, I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth! After you and your family left, we didn't know what to think—but where are my manners? Come in, come in," he urged, taking him by the arm and leading him inside.

"Grandpa," Lovina said, embarrassed at his behavior. She glanced at Antonio, who continued to wait in the doorway, a hopeful expression in his eyes.

"Fine," the older man growled. "Because Feliciana spoke so highly of you."

"Only Feliciana?" Antonio said, the hopefulness in his eyes dimming a little.

"Heinrich, my boy, you must tell me how you ended up in such terrible company," the older man continued cheerfully, ignoring Antonio. "Come, come! Giovanni, some wine for my young friend! What happened to you all those years ago? How is your family?"

Lovina watched her grandfather strong arm one of her least favorite people and Giovanni into their kitchen and frowned. She heard the pattering of feet a few stories above and knew that Feli must have heard and was coming downstairs to investigate. She hoped she wouldn't take to Ludwig's appearance too badly…they hadn't patched things up, last she heard. She had received several letters from the frantic German, but hadn't replied to any of them.

Lovina turned to Antonio and sighed a little, tucking a strand of mahogany hair behind one ear delicately. "He's…not usually that bad…what's wrong?" She asked suspiciously, because he was grinning like an idiot.

"I missed you!" He exclaimed happily, crossing the distance between the two of them. He looked quite tanned from several weeks out in the golden French sun. His green eyes crinkled at the corners upon seeing her. His brown curls had been freshly trimmed, and he looked…well, far better than the last time she had seen him, in Copenhagen. His familiar smile made her happier than she wanted to admit. "You look lovely, Lovina." He bowed with his goofy grin and smiled at her, only a few inches taller than her in his sturdy captain's boots. He looked rather strange without his typical captain's uniform. It made him look younger, in loose-fitting brown trousers and an open, red blouse and a wide-brimmed hat that he carried in his hand.

She felt color rush into her cheeks at the loving way he said her name, with his Castilian accent. She managed to say in a cool, clipped tone, "You're earlier than I expected."

He took a step closer, his grin widening. "But you are happy to see me."

She smirked a little. "I suppose," she said, shrugging. She was glad that she chose today to wear one of her nicer outfits—a trim, dark green riding outfit that clung to her every curve. Her grandpa didn't approve of it, but she was pretty damn fond of it and she had been planning on going out riding with Feli later this afternoon until someone had decided to show up on her doorstep.

"You suppose?" Antonio asked, an injured look in his eyes. "Well, that's no good." He sighed and put his hat back on his head, nodding curtly at her and stepping towards the door. "I was going to ask your grandfather for permission to formally court you, but he already dislikes me. I'm not sure your supposed affection is quite enough to risk my life for." He sighed and put his hand on the door handle with a ridiculously aggrieved air about him.

"What? You can't leave already. That would be rude," Lovina pointed out, reaching out a hand towards him before she could stop herself.

He turned very quickly—too quickly, she thought suspiciously—and grabbed her hand, drawing her close to him. "I was hoping you would say that," he said merrily, tugging on her arm so she stumbled forward, and kissed her soundly.

She was unable to hide her smile as she kissed him back, tilting her face up to his and closing her eyes, inhaling the mingled scent of sweat and fresh linen that drifted off of his skin. He cupped her face in his warm hands, and pulled back to murmur, "I really missed you," before returning to the more important task at hand.

"Oh, sorry!" Someone exclaimed, far too close, and they sprang apart like startled birds.

Antonio sheepishly brought his hands behind his back and turned to face Feliciana, who had just come down the stairs and awkwardly hovered at the bottom step.

Lovina sighed. Why did her sister have to have such terrible timing? She ignored the embarrassment that colored her face as she said, "Ludwig is here, Feli. He's with Grandpa in the kitchen."

"What?" Her sister exclaimed anxiously, concern turning down the corners of her smiling mouth.

"Si! He's been quite worried about you," Antonio added helpfully, still keeping his respectful distance from Lovina. "He thinks you hate him." The Spaniard looked quite distraught at the idea.

"Oh," was all Feliciana said. The younger Vargas twin hopped off the last step and smiled warmly at Antonio. "Ve, it's good to see you again, Toni." She paused when she heard her grandfather's booming laugh and a much quieter response come from the kitchen. She bit her lip and looked at Lovina. "I don't want to see him, Lovi."

Lovina frowned. Normally, she would have been elated to hear those words, but she was rather curious as to why Ludwig thought she would want to talk to him. Maybe the potato bastard had a good reason, after all. And anyway, it wasn't likely that Grandpa Roma would let him go so soon; he had been quite fond of him as a child. She opened her mouth to say as much, but Antonio beat her to it.

"Oh, that reminds me, Feli," Antonio said, reaching into his shirt and withdrawing a letter. "This is from Gilbert, to both of you! We stopped to visit him in France, and he wanted to say hello when he heard we were going to Rome! And he says to give his baby brother a chance to explain," he added, with a wide smile.

Feli took a few steps forward and grabbed the envelope, turning it over curiously. Her face softened slightly at the mention of her old friend's name, and she nodded. "I'll talk to him," she said reluctantly. With a sigh, she dragged herself into the kitchen.

Lovina nodded at Antonio, and they followed behind her.

"Feli!" Grandpa Roma said delightedly. He sat at the head of the table, drinking from a rather large glass of wine. "I was just about to call for you! You remember Heinrich, don't you?"

Feli stiffened as she paused at the opposite end of the table, her small fists clenched as she stared at her friend uncertainly.

Ludwig, meanwhile, looked as if he had seen a ghost. He sat to the right of her grandfather, looking healthy and flushed from the midday's heat in his typically formal attire, pressed trousers and a neatly tucked in white blouse. He stared at her helplessly, his hand frozen around a wineglass. He looked as if he was permanently attached to the Vargas' dinner table. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out.

"Well, I'll let you two catch up," Grandpa Roma said obliviously, and Lovina wondered how many glasses of wine he had consumed today. It's only three, she thought incredulously. "Carriedo!" He barked.

Antonio jumped. He came into the kitchen a good five feet behind Lovina, but he still looked as if he expected the handsome older gentleman to murder at him at any second, and Lovina had to admit that it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. "Yes, sir?"

"Why don't you come with me? I'll show you around the vineyards," he said pleasantly, standing up and staring at Antonio with a positively malevolent glint in his eyes.

"Grandpa, that's not necessary," Lovina interjected, fearing for the Spaniard's safety. Her grandpa may not have been a tall man, and he was approaching his fifty fifth year, but he was still every bit the intimidating Italian general he used to be.

"I insist," he said grandly, shooting Antonio a look that demanded compliance. "It won't take an hour."

"That sounds wonderful, sir," Antonio said, looking a little pale under his summer tan. Lovina would have laughed, but her grandfather's suspiciously cheerful attitude was rather concerning. Grandpa Roma stood up and approached the young couple, laying a heavy hand on Antonio's shoulder.

"Right this way," he said merrily, propelling him towards the small door that led out into the vineyards behind the Vargas estate.

Antonio complied, daring a panicked look at Lovina over his shoulder.

Please don't say anything stupid, she thought, praying that he could somehow read the expression on her face. Please don't say anything that could make him want to kill you.

When the door shut behind them, she realized that Feliciana and Ludwig still hadn't said a single word to each other. She glanced between the two of them. Feli stood at the end of the table, Ludwig still sat opposite her, looking at her forlornly.

"I'll, uh, I'm going for a ride," Lovina said, half wondering if she should stay in case Feli got upset. But no, she reasoned. Her sister would be eighteen in a few days; she was old enough to manage her own affairs. "I'll be back."

Neither of them said anything, so she slipped out of the kitchen and made her way to the family's stables. She saw her wonderful old mare, Cecilia, and sighed happily. "What am I going to do with them?" She murmured to her horse, patting her flank as she saddled the animal herself. She swung up into the sidesaddle and gripped the reigns, leading her horse out of the crowded stables. Just a quick ride, and then she would return. She didn't really want to stick around to hear Ludwig beg for Feli's forgiveness, and she didn't want to just wait for Antonio to return. She sighed as Cecilia trotted down the worn path, away from the vineyards and down to the small pond on the north side of the estate.

It wasn't until a few minutes later, when she had dismounted and let Cecilia get a drink from the pond, that the full impact of Antonio's earlier words hit her.

I was going to ask your grandfather for permission to formally court you!

She groaned aloud, causing Cecilia to whinny and nuzzle her mistress in concern. "Famous last words," she muttered. She just hoped that Grandpa Roma would give him a chance to explain himself before he had the gall to ask that. But still, the words sent a rush of warmth through her body. She buried her face in Cecilia's sun-warmed flank and sighed, running her hands through the mare's mane, unable to contain the happiness that bubbled up within her. She let out a laugh as she imagined her grandfather's face. Well, at the very least, it would be interesting, she mused as she sat down beside her horse to wait for their return.

Italian

Grazie- thank you

Bambina - baby girl

meno Male- thank God

bella - beautiful

senor - sir

si - yes

Also, Giovanni is supposed to be Seborga!

Spanish

Adios, mi hermano - good-bye, my brother

Querida - sweetheart, dear

mi carino - my dear, my darling

Sad Nordics is, like, my least favorite thing. I'm sorry? But Mathias deserved a funeral ;_; But now that that's done, I can get on to shipping.

Ahhh, the big reveal! Ludwig/Heinrich gets to finally explain himself to Feli...I have a feeling that Feli can be quite fierce if she feels betrayed. Poor Ludwig. All will be clear next chapter! Please R&R, and thanks for reading!