All was not well with the young Confederation. In hindsight, anyone older than he could have seen it coming, and yet, Gilbert had warned him nothing about what was happening. The States that made up his being were still not getting along as both Ludwig and Gilbert had hoped, and it was frustrating the child greatly. He was irritable and tense, with pain often tearing itself through his body much without warning as the other big brothers fought and bickered. Some days were better than others. Some days, he felt well enough to get up and wander about the palace, to train. Other days he could do no more than lay in bed and sob at the pain that wracked his small frame. Others still he found himself angry, lashing out at all who looked at him, even big brother Gilbert.

Not that the Prussian man minded. It was normal, all that was happening was completely normal. At least; he assumed it was. While Gilbert himself had never been a collection of other states to know one hundred percent how the child felt, he knew that Dieter had often gone through swings like this as well when things were tense. At least, he mused as he brought Ludwig his breakfast, worried the child would still be in bed ill, Ludwig was still far kinder when he did lash out. Gilbert knew he didn't mean it, his people were discontent, and so he too was discontent.

A small twinge of guilt pulled at Gilbert. He himself was not making it much easier, he'd tried, truly he had, but still Roderich continued to get under his skin, and still he continued to find new ways to poke and prod at the Austrian. Not that it was his fault, of course! He was still angry over Roderich taking Dieter from him, of twisting his own little one against him. He'd hate him until the day he took his last breath.

"Good morning, Luddi, how are you feeling?" Gilbert questioned as he stepped into his brothers chambers, he'd be making the boy stay in his own bed while sick. Almost immediately, a feeling of panic washed over him, the tray in his hands clamboring to the ground.

Ludwig wasn't in his bed. He wasn't in his bed, and Gilbert hadn't seen him wandering about the palace as he normally did. Worry knotted itself in his stomach, a lump forming in his throat, thick and hard to swallow as he ran to his own chambers, grabbing his jacket. He had to find Hasi. He was sick, after all, what if something happened to him! What if his dear Ludwig was lying in a ditch somewhere, scared and alone?

He wasn't.

The blonde had woken early that morning, dressing and quietly slipping from his room. Physically, he felt better than he had in a while, and yet- the discontent had grown. Almost as though his body were running on autopilot, he got a horse from the stables, the ten year old heading towards the main city. It wasn't far, he knew, and although he'd only gone alone once before on an errand, he seemed to know the way. His people were unhappy. Gilbert kept telling him that it would pass, that everything would get better soon, but where, all too often, was brother found? At Austria's making the problem far worse than it had to be. No, in his agitated state, the child found himself believing his husband less and less. He'd rather hear his people's thoughts from their own mouths.

They were more than willing to tell the boy, who had long since been revealed as the nation he was. Their own words were far from what Gilbert had been telling him. They were displeased with the state of their home. Of the Confederation, and nobles- hell, Gilbert himself, deciding to pick fights that only made things worse. They wanted a united nation under a liberal government, rather than being held to the whims of the rich.

And with each word he heard, each person he talked to, the child grew more angry. Angry at his brother, at all his brothers. At the ones who were causing his people to suffer, and as such, cause the pain throughout his body. They wanted a free united Germanic State, they told him. And he had to agree with them. It was ridiculous, the level of foolishness the elders were showing, and he was sick of it. And so Ludwig agreed to help them, following them down to a cellar and looking over their plans.

"These are good." He murmured, blue eyes intent and serious as he ran his fingers along the plan. "But you're weak here, here, and here. It'd be far better if you start slow. Ease your way into full revolution so that when it comes time, you'll already be in a position to take it, to demand reform." The child glanced up at the head, face thoughtful. "Prussia and Austria are honestly the biggest part of the problem at this point. If you can take the power from their monarchs, then perhaps it will force them to finally settle down a bit. They just can not grow up. It's ridiculous, and they need to be put in their place." He decided.

It hurt him to think about. This was the biggest betrayal to the man whose side he had promised to stand by. The one who had taught and protected him; he was literally planning to take his power out from under him. But Gilbert had gotten out of control lately too, and was it not the Prussian warrior himself that had told Ludwig their people's needs came before their own pettiness? Gilbert and Roderich were not putting the Confederation or their people's needs first. Ludwig couldn't worry about brother, not right now. He had to do what was right. Right to make his precious people happy.

"I can come when I can and help you plan." He decided. "It's hard for me to get away, as it is brother will be furious with me when I return home. But I'll try. I'm with you on this, the will of my people outweighs my will. I want this unrest to settle as badly as all of you." Another burst of pain shot through his body, violent coughs wracking the blonde childs body, blood falling from his lips. Well, shit. That was new. A quiet fear creeped through him at the sight of the daunting liquid, but he didn't show it, instead wiping his mouth with his handkerchief and continuing work.

"Are you alright, Sir?" The leader, Kristoff Sattler, questioned, hazel eyes wide with concern as he scooped the child up into his arms. "Perhaps you should go home for today? We can manage, but you won't be any good if you're ill."

Ludwig gave a shaky nod, letting the man help him back to his horse and clinging on weakly as he returned to the palace, promising to come back when he could. Stumbling inside, Ludwig clutched his head, coughing up more blood, wiping his mouth before rounding the corner, just to bump into Gilbert. "Oh, Big bruder I'm sorry I didn't see y-"

The slap that echoed throughout the palace was the last thing that Ludwig expected. Blue eyes widened in shock, clutching his cheek as pain began to ripple through it.

"Where were you!?" Gilbert screamed, grabbing him close and burying his face in his hair. "I was so scared, Ludwig, scared something happened to you! Don't you ever run off like that without telling me, or so help me, I will beat you so badly you won't sit for a month!"

"I'm… I'm sorry…" Ludwig whimpered, looking away sadly. It'd been so long since Gilbert had hit him… "My people were uneasy.. I was uneasy! I had… I had to go talk to them.. to my people…" He whispered. "I can't promise I won't run off again! You're the one who told me. Our peoples needs come first, and they needed me to come."

Gilbert flinched, scowling. "Fine! But don't come complaining to me when you get more sick!" With that he turned and stormed off, anger on his face. How dare Ludwig scare him like that, and then throw his own words back in his face.

Ludwig stared brokenly after the other, torn in what he wanted. He hated Gilbert being mad at him, but he needed his people happy more than anything. Another violent cough tre from his lips, as the blonde drug himself to his room, collapsing on the floor.