I'm still sorry for what I did in the last chapter... *sigh*
Now that this chapter is so early, doesn't mean there won't be one this weekend as well! ;) I suck at keeping files in my computer without posting them within a week... and this one was done last weekend XD
Thanks all for the reviews! I'm sorry for the sadness, but that I managed to make some people cry is a huge compliment to me! Thanks so much!
Also, another small thing I'm happy about is that no one seemed to have gotten the subtle hints I left in the previous chapter. Or didn't mention it at least. Ah, but the real explanation of that is for a much later chapter.
Well, this is one more chapter of sadness and a slight bit of a filler, but the next, as you'll see at the end of this one, should be brighter!
The weather wasn't right.
It just didn't fit well with the situation that day, Prussia thought. A harsh cold wind would've been more fitting, most likely. A light, drizzling rain. Even a downpour would've been okay to him, really. Even a peaceful sight of snow drifting onto the ground would've been better. Anything would.
How could the sun be shining, while he was burrying Brandenburg?
King Frederick had wanted her in the family mausoleum, but Prussia had insisted they would just bury her. Brandenburg had always been, and would always be the same as her people. Why should her body be given the royal treatment? She had a rather fancy coffin for a 'normal' person, though: it was made of silver and stone, and on the lid they had crafted and then painted the Brandenburgian Red Eagle. Prussia hoped she liked that at least, and wasn't somewhere in Heaven complaining right now, muttering that they should've just put her into a pine box. Oak, if they really had to do something special. For as long as Prussia had known her, she had always considered herself equal to her people (superior only when it came in handy) and it would be just like her to complain now.
Well, she was probably grateful enough that Prussia had managed to convince everyone that she should be buried in Berlin. In this warm weather, Holy Rome had insisted that it would take too long to get from Blindheim to Berlin, and that the heat wouldn't have a positive effect on her corpse. Prussia hadn't cared; there was no way he would let his wife be buried in the land where she had been killed. She deserved to go home at least.
For this reason, Bavaria's funeral had been some time earlier already. Prussia hadn't really cared for attending that, but he had known he would have to. And besides, the girl had been Brandenburg's little sister; he had to go in her stead. Seeing Bavaria in a coffin hadn't really done anything to him, though. She had lived, and now she was dead. Everything died someday, why should he care? He had never been close with her, hell, he had never even liked her. He felt bad, of course, that his family had lost two people in one day, but he hadn't been sad to see Bavaria go at all.
Brandenburg, on the other hand... Prussia was still feeling numb most of the time. Whenever he did feel anything, it was usually pain. Loneliness. Grief. The occassional fit of anger was a common thing as well. But, more often than not, he didn't feel anything since Brandenburg had died. While his mind of course told him that this was a natural reaction, that he was just grieving, his heart just... well, seemed to be nonexistent, really. But in complete honesty, he was glad he felt so little. The emotions he struggled with whenever his heart reappeared in his chest for a little while were awful, and he hated every second of the pain.
Now Prussia just stared into Brandenburg's grave as it was slowly being filled with dirt. The ceremony was over, Brand lay underground, but he couldn't move just yet. Some of the others had already left; Hesse had gone off somewhere with Saxony and Holy Rome, Austria and Hungary were walking away together right now. The only one to really stand beside Prussia anymore now was Wurttemberg, who looked just as shaken as Prussia felt at times.
But even he looked up at Prussia eventually and sighed. "We should go, Prussia," he began carefully, knowing very well that you really didn't want to say the wrong words around Prussia as he was still grieving; he had seen the albino go into full rage against Holy Rome when the empire had suggested something for the funeral which Prussia had not agreed with at all. So the younger country spoke slowly now, as if he was carefully thinking over every word he would say. He probably was, Prussia thought. "You can't even see the coffin anymore now, it's completely covered already. There's no need to stay here still."
There is all the need to, Prussia wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut, knowing no one would agree with him on this anyway. That's Brandenburg down there. I'm not going to just leave her here. I'm not. But instead of protesting, the albino just let Wurttemberg pull him away and off the cemetery.
"I'll never forget her," Wurttemberg sighed after a little while, limping beside Prussia, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual -after his former incarnation had died in the Thirty Year's War, he had been reborn with a deformity in his left leg, and he'd always needed a cane to walk properly, even as a kid. Brandenburg had been so worried about him when they first discovered that. She had invested a lot of time into helping him learn to walk when he had still been under her and Prussia's care. "I owe so much to her... and to you, too, Prussia." The boy then looked up at the country who had once been like a foster-parent to him. "Thank you for everything you did for me way back when. I... I hope Brandenburg knows how grateful I am..."
"She does," Prussia answered hoarsely. He hadn't used his voice much for a while now, and it had to get used to being used again, it seemed. "Don't worry, she knows."
Wurttemberg just nodded and halted, and Prussia stopped walking too a second later. "I take it you're going home now, Prussia?" the younger country guessed, his voice still gentle and careful. "Do you, maybe, want some company there?"
Prussia shook his head with a deep sigh. "No, I'll... I'll be better off on my own just now."
Wurttemberg looked at him a little longer, as if he didn't agree with that and wanted to protest. But if he did, he gave in rather quickly and just nodded. "All right, then. I'll just see if I can find Holy Rome, then." Then he said a soft goodbye and left, leaving Prussia to stare after him for a moment. And then the albino left, too, going back to what had been his and Brandenburg's home in Berlin for ages, and where the Prussian royal family still lived when they were in Brandenburgian territory.
By the time he walked into the castle, his legs and arms were shaking, and he struggled to breathe normally. He hadn't been there since shortly after he'd become a kingdom, and that had been together with Brandenburg. In fact, this was the very first time in his life that he entered this castle knowing that he wouldn't see her face there, or hear her voice call to him to be careful with the vase she had gotten from the orient a few decades ago. She had it placed in her library, and Prussia had nearly knocked it over a dozen times or more over the years. He was a little too fond of Brandenburg's library, that was all.
Well, he thought with a hollow feeling in his chest. I guess it's my library now...
That thought sent a jolt of pain through his heart, and he stopped walking. Right then. One of the rare moments he could still feel emotions just had to come around the corner now. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep walking. He wanted to go to his bedroom, really -his own one, as he had come to share Brand's with her many decades ago already, and that was about the last place he wanted to go to on his own now- but his feet brought him to the library anyway. On wobbly, shaking legs he walked in, his sight soon blurring with tears already. For a moment, he tried to bite back his tears, but for once he decided it was enough. Maybe if he let it all out now, he wouldn't be this miserable anymore later on.
Walking further into the library, he passed Brandenburg's piano, and close by was his favourite little table. He could just about picture the two of them there the way they had spent many afternoons together, probably Prussia's favourite way to pass the time; he would sit there and read or write in his journal, and she would play the piano. Prussia had always wanted to ask her to teach him how to play it, but he had never gotten around to doing it. Now he couldn't anymore -he wouldn't ask Austria after taunting his cousin so many times that it was such a sissy hobby. And besides, even though she hadn't been nearly as good as their southern family member, he'd loved to hear Brandenburg play more than he did Austria, anyway.
He felt tears trailing down his face now, and instinctively he tried to stop himself from crying, even though he had just decided to just do it for once. To hell with being strong, to hell with being a soldier, a knight, a kingdom. He had just buried his best friend, his wife. He had lost her, he had been unable to keep his word and protect her, and now he would never see her or hear her or feel her ever again. If he didn't allow himself to cry now, he never would again.
And just as he thought that, a sob tore from his throat, followed by another one and then another, until he was crying so hard he had to fight for breath and he collapsed onto his knees.
I'm so sorry, Brand, I'm so sorry! he thought, hoping that Brandenburg could hear. I should've gone over to you on the battlefield like I had intended to, I should have stayed by your side in the first place! I had promised to protect you, and I failed. If I hadn't... you would still be here with me now, and we would be celebrating our victory over Bavaria's army. If Brandenburg hadn't been killed, if Prussia had protected her, there would be nothing at all to grieve over.
Suddenly something hit him over the back of his head, and he fell forward, just about able to catch himself before he fell face-first onto the floor. Immediately he bit back his sobs and forced himself to be quiet again; he had a feeling he knew who was behind him now.
"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Prince Frederick William, a teenager of about the same age as Prussia now, sounding angry. "Get up, you sniveling baby."
Prussia scrabbled to his feet in an instant, shoulders still shaking with the effort to stop himself fom crying now, tears dripping onto the ground around his feet. When he saw the indignant, even disgusted stare his crown prince sent his way, he glared at the human.
Frederick William just snorted. "That's about the most pathetic look I've ever seen, and I've seen a few," he commented coldly. Then he took a step closer to Prussia and roughly grabbed his kingdom by the chin to force him to look up at the human -the young prince was a bit taller than Prussia by now. "You're a kingdom now, Prussia," he snapped. "You're a kingdom, you're a knight, you're the best soldier the world has ever seen. So how can it be that someone like you can be so pathetic, crying like a baby over such a minor loss?"
His words robbed Prussia of his breath, and he stared wide-eyed at the human for a moment. It took him a moment longer to react to it otherwise. "M-minor loss?" he echoed, not even comprehending how someone who had partly been raised by Brandenburg could view her death as a minor loss.
"Statistically," Frederick William told him then, voice growing even colder to Prussia's astonished ears, "she was just the same as any other soldier. She had no land that wasn't yours as well. Hell, Brandenburg is just a province in the Kingdom of Prussia, anyway!"
"She is not!" Prussia then roared, finding his voice back completely, anger flowing through his veins as though mixed into his blood, filling every inch of his body. "She is not my province, she is my wife! She's my wife and my friend and my cousin!"
"Was," the Prussian prince corrected him. "Past tense, Prussia. I'm sorry, but you'll have to get used to it. The sooner you're over her, the sooner we can send you back into battle. Honestly, I don't know what my father is thinking, letting you stay home now because you're grieving."
Then, with a roar of pure rage, Prussia jumped on the human boy and knocked him to the ground, hands instinctively folding around his neck and pressing it shut. "How dare you?" he demanded in a furious scream. "How dare you?! She raised you, you heartless piece of shit!" He raised Frederick William's head off the ground a bit, then smashed it back down, eliciting a grunt from the human, but that was all. "She's the reason you're a goddamn prince now! Without Brandenburg, I wouldn't be a kingdom at all, and you would have no throne to look forward to!"
Frederick William tried to answer, but only a choking sound came over his lips. Then he grabbed Prussia's hands that were still clenched around his neck, and tried to pull himself free just enough to breathe and talk. Prussia didn't make his struggle easy on him, but he managed eventually. "I miss her too!" the prince choked out suddenly, surprising Prussia, which brought the country to let go just a little more then. The emotions in the young human's voice sounded genuine, and that was the one thing that Prussia didn't understand at that moment, after all he'd just said. "I swear, Prussia, I miss her too. But as I said, statistically, Brandenburg's death isn't a major loss. I know that, officially, she's still a country. But you know as well as I do, Prussia, that she was practically your province from the day you became a kingdom. You noticed it, didn't you?"
Those words struck Prussia like thunder, and for a moment he could only hear voices of his allies in his head. We're lucky to have a strong country like Prussia as our ally. Prussia may be quite small, his army is strong. Prussia, one of the Holy Roman territories. Everyone had already forgotten about Brandenburg in those situations, hadn't treated her as Prussia's equal at all. This realisation cut deep into his already damaged heart, and for a moment he could only think that Brandenburg's death might be his fault.
Frederick William's voice brought him back to the present a few seconds later. "You get it now? I understand your feelings, Prussia, but you're a kingdom and a soldier; we cannot afford to have you weakened by grief like this. So for God's sake, put those emotions aside and think of statistics. Just statistics -no emotions involved there, are there?" The teenager seemed to be trying to calm Prussia down, realising now that he had made a mistake that, if he wasn't careful now, might in fact cost him his life. He, too, knew that after Brandenburg's death, Prussia's emotions had a habit of disappearing then suddenly going into extremes, and in certain moods he could be dangerous like that. "Just as I, as prince and future King in Prussia, have to think first of the people," the boy went on, "you are their kingdom, and you need to put your people first, Prussia. In a strong kingdom, there is no place for weakness."
Just as the strongest of his rage had subsided, it bubbled up in Prussia again with a vengeance, and he pressed his crown prince's airways shut. "I'm grieving now," he said in an angry mutter, but tears dripping from his jaws onto the human's face. "As you can see, I'm crying now. Do I appear any weaker to you? Hm?" Frederick William struggled, but couldn't get Prussia off this time. The albino just let his tears flow freely again and gritted his teeth. "Well? Because I don't feel any weaker!"
"G'off..." the human choked out, gasping for the breath he couldn't get. "G...ge'off..."
Prussia watched him struggle for a moment longer, then sighed and let go of the boy, who desperately filled his lungs with air the second he could. "I've killed before, you know," Prussia just said matter-of-factly. "And I will do it again, no doubt. Countless times. But not you," he added, getting to his feet. Tears were still running down his face and dripping onto the ground, but he was quiet again now. "You're my crown prince, I need you to succeed your father. Being returned to Poland is about the last thing I want, so consider yourself lucky." With a sigh he turned and walked out of the library, but not before halting in the doorway and adding flatly: "Though I must warn you: if you happen to knock over that vase, I might just reconsider my priorities."
The War of Spanish Succession raged on even after both deceased countries had been buried, and it wasn't long until Prussia joined in again as well. He fought more fiercely than before, some of the techniques he used were described as near-savage by some of his allies in battle. His attitude had gotten worse, his arrogance more prominent and generally less jokingly. Everyone who knew what had happened in the Battle of Blindheim knew that this was a reaction to it, and that fighting was Prussia's way of coping with the loneliness, his way of venting emotions. Soon enough, they thought, he would be himself again.
But years came and passed, and he didn't change. Some of the Prussian's closer family, Saxony and Holy Rome most of all, feared the loss of Brandenburg had damaged him permanently by then.
Prussia himself didn't think of it as damage at all; he was as proud of his strength and skill as ever, and he fell in love with battle more than ever before. When he fought, he didn't feel, and so he did it as much as he could, even going as far as to join campaigns that didn't involve the Prussian army at all.
The kingdom was called home briefly in 1706, for the marriage between Prince Frederick William and his cousin, Sophia Dorothea of Hanover. Then he left again as soon as he could. A year later, as he was at the front, he received a letter from his royal family stating that the newly married couple had had their first son. He was somewhat happy about that: nearing his 50s, King Frederick I wasn't the youngest of people anymore. It wasn't uncommon for people to die by that age, and Prussia was glad to know that at least his only surviving son and successor was already taking care of having his own successors. But mere months later he received another letter, stating the boy had died already. That didn't bother the kingdom much; Prince Frederick William wasn't even 20 years old yet and not on the throne. He had plenty of time left to secure Prussia's continued independence from Poland.
Meanwhile the war wasn't looking too good for the Grand Alliance. They were losing against France increasingly often. But it wasn't until 1710 that the war had affected Prussia so much that he was weak enough to be dragged home to Berlin. Any attempt by the king to get his country home from the battlefield before that had been in vain, and Prussia had just continued fighting despite being too tired or sick to lift a sword at times. During times like those he had stayed and created strategies until he felt well enough to join the battles again. Even France, the victor so far, had stopped actively fighting in the war a couple of years before Prussia did.
In all those years, Bavaria had been reborn once again, but not Brandenburg. The Margraviate was treated like a Prussian province, more often than not called 'Prussia' as much as the actual Kingdom of Prussia was. The title of 'Margrave of Brandenburg' that Prussia's king had, had become something minor. 'King in Prussia' was what he was known as now above anything else.
After his initial disappointment about it, this came as a relief to Prussia. Even if the country were to be reborn, he wouldn't get Brandenburg back, not ever. He didn't even want a reincarnation of Brandenburg; it would just be a nuisance to him now, like Bavaria was to Austria. Prussia's cousin had taken it upon himself to raise Bavaria like the little boy's first incarnation had once done him. And if there was one thing he didn't want, it was a child to look after. Even if Prussia didn't raise it, he knew he would be expected to spend time with it and teach it about being a country, like he was now expected to help out with raising Frederick William's one-year-old daughter, Frederike Wilhemine, and his second son, born in August 1710. That boy died before he was a year old, by which time Sophia Dorothea was pregnant again.
Prussia honestly didn't give a shit anymore. He was more interested in what the outcome of the war would be than anything else. France, Spain and England had moved the war to their American colonies, so it was harder to get information quickly, and Prussia almost made a sport of gathering as much information as he could and writing it down in his journal. He didn't write a personal report anymore until late January the next year.
24 January 1712
It's so noisy in here, it's unawesome as hell. I mean, I get that Sophia Dorothea is giving birth and all, but can't she do so quietly?
Well, in a few days, peace negotiations are due to start in the Dutch city of Utrecht. Ther-
...Screw it, I can't concentrate with that annoying woman making noise like this. I don't even know what I wanted to write, other than that it was supposed to be a sentence starting with 'there'. Thinking about it, I don't even know that for sure! 'Therein'? 'Therefore'?
Oh, wow, it's quiet now. Finally!
...
And now it's gone again. Why do babies cry just after they're born, anyway? Does it hurt to be born? Is it scary? I wouldn't know, I never experienced it like humans do.
Oh well, I suppose this means I have a new prince or princess. Just great. Let's see how long this one survives. If it's any longer than its two elder brothers did, that's a miracle. If it does and it's a girl, it's useless to me. Girls cannot succeed the title of King in Prussia and thus cannot prevent my being handed back to Poland after Frederick William dies.
So fingers crossed that it's a prince who will live longer than a year.
With a sigh, Prussia put his journal and quill down and walked out of his room, to Prince Frederick William's office, where he guessed the man would be now. He arrived there just as the crown prince was handed his newest child, and Prussia watched from a distance, silent.
"Well then," Frederick William declared proudly. "We'll call him Frederick."
So it's a boy, Prussia thought flatly. Well, that's good, I suppose.
The human then spotted his kingdom standing in the doorway and called him over. With a proud gaze he promptly handed his new son to Prussia. "Meet your future crown prince Frederick."
Prussia just wordlessly took the baby in his arms (mostly because he wasn't given a choice) and stared at him with expressionless red eyes. Then he blinked and sighed. "Another Frederick, eh?" he mumbled. "How creative of you."
The human did not look amused at that comment. With narrowed eyes, he told Prussia: "That's a name that has been used in this family for-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Prussia interrupted him, bored already. "I was there when the first of you Fredericks was born, remember?" He then looked back down at the newborn baby, surprised to see the little boy staring up at him with bright blue eyes. They stared at each other like that for a moment in complete silence, until the little Frederick let out a delighted squeal. Prussia just continued staring at him, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. His prince's previous child had been a lot more quiet than this one. Maybe this little critter would be stronger than his brothers had been after all.
Realising he had been staring for quite some time now, Prussia cleared his throat loudly and handed the boy back to his father, averting his gaze already as he did so. "Well," he declared matter-of-factly. "I'm not going to call that kid Frederick while your father still lives. I can hardly start calling a baby Frederick II, when it's not even clear if he will become King Frederick II, now can I?"
Frederick William seemed to be getting more annoyed with his country with the minute now, and if he hadn't been occupied carrying his son, he might've even thrown a punch or two -he had a temper like that, after all. "Then what will you call him?" he demanded.
Critter sounds good, Prussia thought to himself. Squishy-face. Squealy. Crybaby. But he said none of those aloud, knowing that if he did, Frederick William might get angry enough to just drop the kid and punch Prussia anyway. And then Prussia would have a nasty bruise and no future crown prince anymore. So he went for a more acceptable nickname in the end.
"How about Fritz?"
So, to make up for the loss of Brand, have a Fritz!
Well, and about the thing with Frederick William, he was known for his temper. He would lash out at everyone and everything, especially Fritz, since their personalities were practically opposites. Prussia would be no exception, especially in this situation, since he displayed a lot of 'weakness' just there.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter despite it's filler-ness, and thanks for reading!
