Backstory 3. Raging Fire.
Gilbert always hated them. The soldiers. They were…mean. Cruel. They obeyed orders and laughed off anything that they "shouldn't" do. Gilbert was just waiting for the day he was big enough to fight them. And win. Oh, he'd win. He'd beat all of them to the dust.
"Brother," a small voice struck Gilbert out of his thoughts and he looked over at the source. "You were doing it again."
"Sorry," Gilbert muttered, glancing back at the window. It was school time and Gilbert was lucky enough to get a window in his classroom. Ludwig, his little brother, was four years younger than him, but was smart enough to be in Gilbert's class. Which scared him. If he looked too impressive, the king might want something from him.
"You shouldn't be focused on fighting them," Ludwig muttered, looking at the ground.
"I'm not," Gilbert smiled, patting his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, I've got my life figured out."
"You're ten," Ludwig said bluntly and Gilbert just shrugged.
"Older than you," Gilbert smirked.
"Dumber than me," Ludwig said and Gilbert glared halfheartedly at him. It was break time. A nice, ten minute section of their day where they could eat lunch or whatever. Their family couldn't afford lunch, but Gilbert had learned to ignore his rumbling stomach a long time ago.
"Whatever," Gilbert said with a wave of his hand. "Remember what we talked about, though. You're not allowed to tell anyone about what I think, got it?"
"Yes," Ludwig nodded. Gilbert wasn't stupid. He had seen what had happened to the people around him that said they hated the soldiers or the king. They got taken away. And then everyone stopped talking about them. Gilbert wouldn't be like that, he couldn't. No one could know. His brother only knew because he could read him a little too well. He would always catch him glaring at the soldiers on the streets during the day. "Just don't do something stupid, okay?"
"Hey, would I ever do anything stupid?" Gilbert laughed and class began, so Ludwig rushed to his seat and Gilbert continued his usual ritual. Ignoring the teacher and glaring at the soldiers.
"Okay, so I've come up with a game," Gilbert said proudly, tossing a pebble in his hand and catching it with the same one. He was so cool. Ludwig walked beside them, on their way home from school, surrounded by the bustling people attempting to get home on time. "You throw this pebble onto the ground and you've gotta hop on one leg until you pick it up, then we switch."
"That's a little weird," Ludwig muttered.
"Well, you're weird," Gilbert laughed and lightly tossed the pebble. As expected, the bustling people didn't so much as look their way and the pebble bounced around until it stopped. The grin never leaving his face, Gilbert hopped on his right foot until he reached it and picked it up, succeeding in vaguely stopping the regular flow of foot traffic. "You're turn!" He happily held the stone out to Ludwig.
"We're almost home," Ludwig said, the slight blush on his face telling Gilbert that he was embarrassed and scared to try it.
"Come on, it's fun!" Gilbert tried. "Don't be so stuffy! It's okay to have a little fun!"
"I'd rather get home," Ludwig sighed, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Then I'll go again," Gilbert said happily. They were really close to home, he could already see their front door. So he threw the rock so that it could land right in front of their door, which he only just noticed was open. Maybe their parents got there faster than usual from work. Gilbert smiled as he started hopping towards the door. It was wide open and he looked up from the ground only once and stopped right where he was.
Red.
It stained the carpet, had splattered on the walls, soaked the faces of his…
Gilbert stumbled backwards, running into Ludwig. He didn't care how many angry people in a hurry ran into him as he stared forward. There was a soldier in his house. His parents were on the ground, their faces covered in…red…bl…blood. The soldier was laughing, twirling his gun in his hands like he was proud of himself.
"Gilbert?" Ludwig asked carefully, looking beyond Gilbert and gripping tightly onto his arm at the sight in front of him. He was shaking, trembling. Gilbert's eyes widened. They couldn't be heard, they could be killed, too.
"No, please," Gilbert twirled around, looking his brother in the eye. "Don't…" Gilbert closed his eyes tightly to chase away his own tears and stared at the water forming in Ludwig's eyes. Everyone around them continued as usual. Because they had to. "Don't…" Gilbert shook his head.
"Why?" Ludwig asked in a quiet voice and Gilbert bit his lip. He didn't know! He was a kid! He shook his head and gripped hard onto Ludwig's hand, leading him through the crowd as quickly as he could. Ludwig tripped a few times on the ground and, finally, Gilbert caught sight of an abandoned building. He ducked inside with Ludwig, pushing them both against the wall. He looked around and saw a few people with blankets that regarded them for a few seconds before returning to their own business. Gilbert swallowed thickly.
These were the people without homes.
Ludwig whimpered beside him and fell to the ground, unable to hold back his tears anymore. Gilbert flinched, choosing to ignore the tears swimming in his vision. There were a few kids here that looked at them with sorrow, understanding, but didn't offer any help. Gilbert felt his heart sink and he gripped tightly onto his shirt as he allowed himself to fall to the hard ground. And he cried, too. Because no one was really watching. Because that was all he could do.
He gripped his shirt so hard his hands trembled and Ludwig leaned against him, crying as quietly as he possibly could because he was scared, too.
No, Gilbert wasn't scared. Not of the soldiers. He was angry.
He was going to get his revenge.
"Are you sure?" Ludwig asked curiously.
"Of course I'm sure," Gilbert smirked. "I'm awesome."
"I don't think that's the right choice of words," Ludwig muttered, shaking his head.
"Whatever," Gilbert scoffed. What did his brother know? He was only 12. Gilbert knew better. He was a teenager, after all. And he'd protected his brother for this long. Gilbert narrowed his eyes from the alley way they were in, watching the soldiers passing them by. They were out in the middle of the day, the time when everyone should be at school or work, but neither of them had been to school for six years. He recognized one of them, clearly. From the memory burned into his skull. When he laughed with his fellow soldiers, Gilbert flinched, remembering that laugh as that man twirled that gun above his parents' bodies.
"Maybe we shouldn't get revenge," Ludwig offered. "Maybe we should just move on."
"I can't do that," Gilbert muttered. This had been all he dreamed about, all he thought about for years. Finding this damned man again and having the ability to actually kill him, end everything once and for all.
"Gilbert," Ludwig pressed, pulling on his brother's arm and forcing Gilbert's attention to him. "Don't. I care about what happened to our parents, too, but this is not the way we should do this."
"Then what way should we?" Gilbert snapped, but quietly, just in case the soldiers were nearby. "I need…closure, or whatever the hell it's called. I won't sleep well until that bastard's dead."
"You're so stubborn," Ludwig muttered.
"Good thing, too," Gilbert simply smirked. "Or else both of us would probably be dead by now."
"He's coming," Ludwig sighed and Gilbert turned his attention back to the soldiers. They were making rounds along the street, just wasting time and waiting for someone to be breaking the rules. Gilbert tensed, his hand tightening around the makeshift knife in his hands. It was a glass shard that he'd wrapped some cloth around and it would be good enough. It had to be. "Just…be careful, okay?"
"While you're with me?" Gilbert smirked. "I've got no choice."
He saw the soldier walk by and lunged. Living on the streets for so long was good for a few things. One, he was already about as big as the soldier, and as well built, so he could easily hold the man back. Two, his reflexes were fast, ripping the soldiers gun from his hand before he had a chance to try anything. In another quick motion, Gilbert sliced the man's throat with the knife. The man made a small, gurgling sound before he went limp and Gilbert didn't bother to catch him. He tossed the gun to Ludwig, who easily caught it, and they started running through the shadows of the alleyways.
Gilbert smirked when he heard the other soldiers discover the body. He was pretty good at this.
"They're not here," Ludwig said gruffly and Gilbert rolled his eyes from where he was leaning against a wall. The town was going home after work. Gilbert had been given a tip by some of the other homeless people that the revolutionaries were going to try something that day, a speech or something. He was interested. Maybe they would have some good ideas. And now that he and Ludwig weren't scavenging every day for a way to survive and they both had guns, they could focus on other things. Gilbert glanced at his brother, frowning at the fact that his brother had already grown to be taller than him. That was totally not fair. Gilbert was the adult here and Ludwig was still a teenager. Not fair.
"They're coming," Gilbert scoffed. "We just have to wait, blend in."
"It's always been hard for you to blend in," Ludwig said pointedly and Gilbert rolled his eyes with a smirk.
"I'm taking that as a compliment," Gilbert said happily. "I mean, who wants to blend in with these losers?"
"A normal person," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert let out a barking laugh. That was when he saw it. One of the men walking through the crowd was obviously different and he was looking at small cards in his hands, working through sentences without saying them out loud. It had to have been the speaker. But the second Gilbert saw him, a bullet went straight through the man's head. He couldn't even hear the gunshot in the crowd.
Gilbert watched with wide eyes as the man fell to the ground and everyone stepped around it because it was dangerous to cause a fuss.
"Well," Gilbert sighed. "Guess he's not here anymore…"
"We can find other revolutionaries," Ludwig sighed, placing a tentative hand on Gilbert's shoulder.
"Hell, if the king's trying to kill them," Gilbert smirked. Obviously this was the work of the king, who else would have someone assassinated before they even started talking? "then they're friends of mine."
"This plan's sure to work," Gilbert smirked happily. He had a few stolen guns hidden on him, along with Ludwig. They were ready for anything, and they had to be. They had tracked down another speaker in just a few months, which Gilbert was proud of. It was hard to dig up any news on the revolutionaries without a lot of help. But they got another one. The crowd bustled around them as they waited and Gilbert kept an eye out.
"How can you be sure?" Ludwig asked simply.
"I'm awesome, you gotta learn to trust me a little," Gilbert shrugged, glancing at his brother. Seriously, four year age difference and Ludwig's taller than him? How the hell does that happen? He turned back towards the moving crowd and saw a person that set up a makeshift sort of podium and there was a man standing nearby with a fairly obvious gun "hidden" on him. The man had a microphone and speaker and he started to talk. "Got 'em." Now all that was left was to wait for him to finish and talk to him.
"There's someone on the roof," Ludwig observed and Gilbert glanced back at Ludwig before looking up. There was a man on a roof with a rifle, looking around the area. What was he there for? If he was with the king, he would have shot the revolutionary already.
Gilbert didn't have much other time to think because he heard the gunshots behind him. Soldiers. He looked back and saw that there was actually a large crowd of them this time. Gilbert swallowed thickly, moving Ludwig back so that they were just like a lot of the crowd hoping to get away from the soldiers, who were shooting blindly at the people they thought were listening. The speaker stopped talking.
And then Gilbert saw a man from the shadows come forward with a gun, shooting about five soldiers before even being noticed. Gilbert smirked. Just his kind of crowd.
"Come on," Gilbert nodded to his brother, pulling out a gun of his own. They waited until the group had passed before they stood behind them, shooting at whoever they could get to. The man on the roof was helping them out, too. It was just a matter of seconds before all of the soldiers were on the ground. The crowd burst into chaos around them as Gilbert grinned triumphantly, glancing at Ludwig. That is, until a gun was shoved into his face. "Get that bullshit out of my face," Gilbert growled, pulling his own gun on the man in front of him. It was the man that had helped them with the soldiers…
"Don't be stupid," the man snapped and, in one quick motion with his free hand, knocked the gun from Gilbert's grip.
"Stay calm," another man sighed, walking up to them with his gun on Ludwig. Ludwig, being sensible, calmly put his gun away. The man whose gun was on Gilbert said something into some kind of earpiece. "Let's get to an alleyway no one can see us."
"Are you fucking serious?" Gilbert snapped as he was lead to a quiet corner around the chaos. "I was fucking helping, you jackass!"
"Be quiet for two fucking seconds and you'll understand," the man snapped.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was fucking helping!" Gilbert nearly screamed at them. That was when he saw a man appear into the alleyway they were in. He had a large rifle on his back and Gilbert could only assume he was the guy on the roof.
"Keep fucking talking and I'll blast out your brains," the man with a pistol growled at the sniper patted his shoulder as he walked right up to Gilbert.
"You should learn to calm down a bit," the sniper laughed, glancing back at the man with a pistol. He stuck his hand out to Gilbert. "My name's Antonio. I saw you on the roof, thanks for the help."
"Yeah," Gilbert stared at the hand. He wasn't quite sure whether or not he could trust these guys. It didn't help his only gun was now on the ground somewhere. "Don't mention it. Who the fuck are you guys?"
"Consider us a revolutionary group," the man with a gun on Ludwig muttered. "I don't intend to hurt you, but if you fire first, I won't hesitate." He then muttered something into his own little earpiece. Revolutionaries? They did shoot soldiers and it seemed like the speaker got away safely. But what kind of revolutionary group were they? They weren't protestors or anything like that…
"How can we trust you?" Gilbert muttered, looking over Antonio and wondering how he would do in a fight against him. He had a familiar posture and way he carried himself that told Gilbert he just might lose.
"I didn't shoot you," Antonio shrugged, his hand still out. He seemed pretty chipper. "You don't have to make any promises now, just come along for a bit and we'll figure something out, okay?"
"What do you think, Lud?" Gilbert asked, glancing at Ludwig, who sighed.
"It's better than nothing," Ludwig said and Gilbert sighed.
"Gilbert," he said, taking Antonio's hand. "The awesome me is at your service."
"You can't be serious," Gilbert shook his head. "No fucking way, man."
"It's a necessary risk," Arthur sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. They were in Arthur's "home", if you could call his mansion homey in the slightest, but it was better than nothing Gilbert figured. Arthur had decided to talk to Gilbert and Ludwig alone because of the "sensitivity" of the topic at hand.
"So you don't even care if I die? Great to know," Gilbert rolled his eyes. They'd been a part of this group for a short while, helped them out with a few cases where they had to protect some revolutionaries…Gilbert had started to make friends, real friends. Antonio and Francis were great to talk to, despite the fact that Antonio was actually a soldier and Francis was a noble. And that…whatever the hell he was supposed to call it between Ludwig and Feliciano. It was good to see Ludwig happy, even if the kid never showed it to anyone. And now this assignment?
"There is conclusive proof that the king has a group of assassins working for him," Arthur huffed.
"Yeah? Who gave you that bullshit?" Gilbert scoffed and Arthur glared harshly at him before collecting himself, clearing his throat.
"She was a spy, known as Britannia," Arthur said clearly. "She was recently found dead and I know by the hands of the assassins. If you could-"
"You want me to risk my life on a hunch?" Gilbert snapped.
"Gilbert," Ludwig sighed.
"No, shut up," Gilbert scoffed. "You know what this mission involves? I've gotta pretend that I actually like the king, like I don't want to shove his face in the fucking dirt while I shoot him. I'd be walking among fucking soldiers, biting my tongue so I don't slip up. One fucking mistake and I'm dead!"
"I'm glad you understand the risks," Arthur said smoothly, simply. It was like he didn't even care!
"And why am I the only one you're asking?" Gilbert asked.
"The king knows everything about everyone," Arthur said clearly. "The second he knows your name he'll look into your past. If Francis goes, the king knows he killed his father and is spending mass amounts of money on bullets and guns and spying equipment. If Antonio goes, the king discovers he's a deserter from the military. The same goes for Feliciano and Lovino."
"And you?" Gilbert quirked an eyebrow and Arthur visibly flinched.
"Believe me, it'll be painfully obvious what my motives are," Arthur said darkly. "So it's either you or Ludwig that can do this."
"Don't you dare bring him into this," Gilbert snarled, stepping in front of Ludwig, mostly out of protection.
"I can take care of myself, Gilbert," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert shook his head.
"From our information, they're all your age, Gilbert," Arthur sighed. "You are the best fit for this mission."
"And why the hell is it so important I do this?" Gilbert asked. "Why are you pressing this?"
"It's orders," Arthur said.
"From who?" Ludwig asked and Arthur took a deep breath.
"Matthias, Lukas, Berwald, Tino, and Emil," Arthur said. "The rulers of the country of Merkatus."
Gilbert took a moment to pause as he took in this information. Arthur was…in league with big shots like that? How? What was his past if he had that kind of connection? Why were they pressing something like this? Weren't they logical people?"
"They are in charge of this?" Ludwig asked carefully and Arthur nodded.
"I'm only taking up where Britannia left off," Arthur sighed. "She was the one with the connections, they just saw me as an opportunity to continue moving forward. If we want this revolution to be a success, we need outside support and they are the best we can find."
"And you can trust 'em?" Gilbert asked skeptically. He'd never trust anyone that was rich…unless they proved themselves like Francis. They always had a motive behind their back. They couldn't care less about the little people along the way. The king was a perfect example of this.
"Does it matter?" Arthur asked. "Our job is similar to those assassins from the king. We hide in the shadows and we hurt the other side without a large show of force. If we have you inside…we can do something about them. They'll be a problem in the long run."
"So, what, you want me to kill them from the inside?" Gilbert scoffed.
"If that's what it takes," Arthur sighed.
"Gilbert," Ludwig placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "Let's talk about this. In private."
"What the hell is there to talk about?" Gilbert scoffed, brushing off his hand. "I'm not risking my life."
"Consider it," Arthur muttered, turning on his heel and walking out of the room with purpose. That always bugged Gilbert. The man walked around with this…importance. He wasn't even willing to tell everyone else about his past and yet he walked around like he was the most pompous, important rich person around.
"I think you should do it," Ludwig said simply as the door closed, leaving the two alone in the small room.
"Are you fucking serious?" Gilbert snapped, twirling around to face his brother. "That's a death sentence, no matter how you look at it!"
"We all need to take risks for something like this," Ludwig pressed. "I'm willing to go if you don't."
"I'm not allowing you to go," Gilbert said through clenched teeth. "I'm the older brother here, what I say goes!"
"You may be older, but I am stronger," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert glared at him. "I'll go if you don't."
"Don't," Gilbert said. "Don't."
"I believe in this revolution," Ludwig said. "And I believe in the people fighting for it. This will help us be a step ahead of them, if you can get information on them, if at all possible."
"And if I fuck up?" Gilbert asked.
"You won't," Ludwig said. "You haven't yet."
"I've fucked up plenty," Gilbert shook his head, a fake smile on his lips. "You're just too blind to see it."
"I trust you," Ludwig said. "I think you can do it."
"And what happens if I die?" Gilbert snapped, glaring at him. "I'm not leaving you alone. I can't. I won't allow you to get a vendetta against soldiers because your whole family was killed by them like…like me… Okay? Don't even try to say you won't. I'm not leaving you alone. You can't…"
"Then don't leave me alone," Ludwig said, meeting Gilbert fierce gaze with a softer one. "You're awesome, you can handle this."
"Don't pull that bullshit on me," Gilbert laughed slightly. "Okay, so what if I do actually do it? Who knows how long I'd be there, I might not even come back after all of this is over."
"We all have to make sacrifices," Ludwig said simply and Gilbert nodded.
"Fine," Gilbert let out a long sigh. "Okay…"
"Impress them," Gilbert muttered under his breath, followed by quite a few creative curses for a certain leader that came up with this stupid idea. "How the fuck…" Gilbert shook his head from where he stood. It was an abandoned building, but he knew the homeless were still living in it. He stood in a dark corner with easy access to a window. He was in the capital, painfully close to the capital building.
Just outside, as the sun was falling, there was a…parade of sorts. The king was there. A perfect opportunity to impress him…and the assassins that were sure to be there with him. They didn't know how many there were or any real facts about them, just some vague things like their age range and the fact that they were deadly. Of course they were deadly, they were assassins! Gilbert shook his head and focused. Arthur had a plan.
They would cause a ruckus, Gilbert would make a show of shooting them down…well, "shooting" them down. They'd gotten good at practicing this little switch trick and it looked damn realistic, if Gilbert had to admit.
Finally, finally, Gilbert saw him. The king. He had a float with a throne on it and he smiled happily at the people he passed. He was finally allowing them out past dark, how strange. Gilbert rolled his eyes and took note of the people around him. Five soldiers, standing stock still around him but keeping a close eye out. Most of them held guns, though one of them had swords at his hips. Strange for a soldier…
Come to think of it…they weren't standing like soldiers at all. Gilbert compared them to the others, who had been trained for years. When they stood still, their arms were behind their backs. They didn't hold their guns out in a show like this…These soldiers were holding their guns, their fingers already on their triggers. No soldier kept his finger on a trigger, just in case. They went over bumps and yet they didn't accidentally pull anything, they were more skilled than most soldiers with a gun. They just might be…
Gilbert carefully took a deep breath, holding onto his gun with a secure grip. He had to fit a role now, couldn't slip up on anything. From this moment on, he loved the king, would do anything for him. Grew up on the streets but still felt devoted. He'd kill for that man. No, he was more than a man now. Gilbert wouldn't mind dying for him, as long as the king could continue to live, for the sake of the country.
That was his role.
The gunshots started and Gilbert smirked. Time to play.
Antonio had found a good spot, sure, but Gilbert knew exactly where he was. He had exactly six shots to shoot, he didn't have time to miss. Couldn't miss. He had to impress them, get in good with the king. That was all that mattered now. For now…and only for now…Gilbert was allowed to forget about his brother completely, push him to the side of his mind. He couldn't afford to slip up now.
He ran out into the street as the civilians began to scatter. Everyone had good hiding spots, those "soldiers" around the king seemed at a loss, looking around desperately for something to shoot at. Gilbert smirked as he ran forward. He shot where Lovino was and he made a good show of dying up on the roof. The "soldiers" turned their attention on Gilbert. Perfect.
Impress them…
Gilbert didn't even need to look where he knew Ludwig would be, firing a single shot and seeing the man fall to the ground, playing dead as well. Impress them. He was still running for the king's float and the "soldiers" had their guns on him, just in case he slipped up. But he couldn't slip up now. He slid to a stop and shot at Feliciano, who "died" as well. He was right in front of the float now and the "soldiers" still had a problem finding where they were all hiding.
Next was the hard part. He was perfectly in place. Francis fired his shot and now the "soldiers" could see where he was. The shot was aimed right at the king and so they fired at him in retaliation. Gilbert only hoped that Francis faked it good enough. He didn't have the time to watch. The "soldiers" had forgotten about the bullet, but it was Gilbert's job to protect the king, after all. He jumped to intercept the bullet. It was small, wouldn't make it past him, and so it plunged into the right side of his chest, deep, painfully, and dug its little nest as Gilbert knelt down with his back to the king.
Anything for the king…right…
Gilbert looked up at where Arthur and Antonio would be and shot both of them quickly, with practiced ease. He gave himself a few seconds for him to look around, to see if others were there, before he dropped his gun and held onto his wound, which was practically pouring blood. Now they got to the part they couldn't practice.
He cringed at his own pain as four guns were pointed to his head, along with the tip of a sword.
"Don't move," a voice said clearly and Gilbert nodded numbly.
"Couldn't move if I wanted to," Gilbert muttered darkly, staring at the ground. This had to work. It had to. They couldn't afford for it not to.
"That was very brave of you," the king said simply, from behind him. He sounded…thankful. Damn well better be thankful…Gilbert winced as a new wave of pain wracked through him. "Roderich, I would like for you to give this man medical attention."
"Yes, Your Majesty," another voice said.
"We can bring him to our house to give him a safe place to heal," another voice, this one a woman, said simply. How had Gilbert not noticed a girl among them? He must have really been distracted saving the king.
"Try not to move," a soft voice said as the weapons were removed from him. The king didn't see him as a threat, that was a good step.
"Roger," Gilbert muttered. A needle was pressed into his arm, slowly. He felt more pain, followed by a sickly warm feeling that swiftly washed over him. He felt himself slowly slipping, the pain in his chest replaced quickly by the warm feeling. He felt…oddly content…
When Gilbert woke up, he was staring at a dull, gray ceiling. It only took him a few seconds to remember what had happened to get him there and he groaned, expecting pain in his chest. He rolled his soldier as a test and found that it did, in fact hurt, but definitely not as much as he expected.
"Good, you're finally awake," a man muttered and Gilbert's eyes immediately darted to where the man was. It was one of the soldiers. He had dark, well-kept hair, and purple eyes hidden behind glasses. Why the hell did he have glasses? No one needed those anymore…Gilbert really hadn't noticed anything about those soldiers around the king… "You're very stupid, taking a bullet like that."
"It was for the king," Gilbert offered, his voice cracked and wavering. How long had he been out? He felt extremely groggy.
"You've been asleep for three days," the man said clearly, looking at him with serious eyes. "The king said he wanted to see you when you woke up." Damn, couldn't the man wait a few minutes for Gilbert to collect himself? "There's a change of clothes here, once you're up, Alfred and Matthew will lead you to the king."
"Sure thing," Gilbert sighed heavily. Then the man left, just like that. Impress them. He had to impress them.
Gilbert gritted his teeth as he sat up, the pain washing over him in minute waves. He took a deep breath and quickly stood up. He was still in his pants from what happened, but his shirt was long gone. Probably thrown away. Gilbert shook his head. New life. Impress them. He changed into these new clothes quickly, ignoring the pain in his chest that was getting worse with all of this movement. They were some good clothes, he'd admit, just not his style. Maybe he could talk to the king about getting him better clothes sometime in the future…
Gilbert ran a hand through his hair, hoping it looked alright for a meeting with the king, before he left the room. The door opened for him and he stepped out to see twins, who stopped their conversation the second the noticed him. They had glasses, too, but when Gilbert looked closer, at their oddly mismatched eyes, there were lines across them...
"Let's move," the slightly taller one, the one with shorter hair, said simply and started walking. Gilbert sighed under his breath and followed him, the other one walking beside him. They had a brisk pace that Gilbert had a hard time keeping up with, but he wasn't about to let that show. The one beside him had wavier hair and a light smile on his face.
"Thanks," the one beside him said with a soft voice, far softer than his brother's. "By the way. For what you did for him."
"Anything for the king," Gilbert nodded. It wasn't a lie, he had to fit the role now, no matter what.
"I was careless, allowing that to happen," the one in front ground out. He didn't like it that Gilbert did more for the king than him. Gilbert smirked. He'd take that into consideration.
"It was very brave," the other one offered a small smile to him and Gilbert nodded. If these were actually the assassins, he wouldn't have that rough of a time with them, after all.
They left the small "house" or whatever it was and walked into the streets. They were crawling with soldiers and Gilbert had to fight not to tense around them. Surely, these two would notice. They walked right up to the capital building, which was surprisingly close to them. Neither of the twins bothered talking with anyone as they walked with purpose. The louder one told a soldier to talk to the king as soon as they stopped in front of large doors. Gilbert swallowed thickly, nervously. Sure, he had seen the king before, but that was under completely different circumstances.
Gilbert sure hoped he was impressed because everyone he'd met so far didn't seem to be.
Soon, the doors opened and Gilbert could see the king, sitting on his throne. Some nobles stepped out around them, not bothering glancing at them. Gilbert followed the lead of the twins and walked in, not looking directly at Ivan. The three of them knelt down in front of him, heads bowed.
"Thank you, Alfred, Matthew," the king said, oddly warmly. He had a soft spot for those two…Any information Gilbert could get and store away was important. He couldn't overlook anything, starting now. "And thank you, Gilbert." For a brief moment, Gilbert wondered how the king knew him, but he remembered what Arthur had said. The king had access to everyone's records. He knew everything about everyone. All he needed was Gilbert's face. "I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you did what you did."
"It was nothing, Your Majesty," Gilbert wet his lips. He had to stop himself from shaking.
"As a thanks for what you did," the king said simply, quick to get to the point. Maybe he had another meeting to get to or something, "I would like to propose an offer. I trust you, as I trust the five that you saw with me when you protected me. You have certain skills that do not coincide well with most soldiers or other workers. Would you consider working directly for me? I'm afraid I won't be able to pay you for your troubles, but I will give you anything you need at any time. You will no longer exist to the outside world, though your job will be to…protect me, in essence." There was a brief pause. "Would you consider working for me as an assassin?"
Gilbert took deliberate pause. He had to make it seem like he was actually thinking through it. He didn't know an offer like this existed, he couldn't have. Now he was thinking about it. The king knew about his family, so he was thinking about his brother. He was thinking about what he had to lose, which Ivan knew was nothing.
"I would be honored to, Your Majesty," Gilbert said clearly, his voice practically ringing in the silent room around them.
"Then I thank you for your services," the king said happily. "You may leave." Gilbert gritted his teeth, he hated the way royals talked. But he still rose with a small bow to the king, who he still didn't look at directly, and followed the twins out of the room.
"Welcome to the family, I guess," the louder twin sighed once the doors closed.
"Come on, Al, actually welcome him," the other one nudged him with his elbow before holding out a hand to Gilbert. "I'm Matthew."
"Gilbert."
Gilbert couldn't help but smile a little. At least one of the assassins was cute. He could handle this, he could do this. He just couldn't blow his cover as long as he was here. So, he shoved everything, revolutionary thoughts, his brother, his friends, his past…everything went into a back corner of his head. He couldn't look back on them now. All he had was the present.
Gilbert sighed heavily, sitting on a curb and watching as cars passed by him at impossible paces. He was slouched, exhausted. It was a day off, of sorts. The assassins from the revolutionary group were now in charge of keeping the princes safe, just in case. Gilbert was always charged with watching Matthew, who never even looked at him, let alone spoke to him. Gilbert huffed, wondering if there was even the slightest chance that they could go back to like they used to be. Back when he was pretending…
"Um…hi," a voice said, startling Gilbert out of his thoughts. He sat straight up and looked back, seeing Matthew standing behind him. How did he even manage to get out? Someone must have been watching him…He must have read Gilbert's thoughts because the next words out of his mouth were, "I snuck out."
"Right," Gilbert muttered, clearing his throat. He didn't know what to say. It had been weeks since Matthew and Alfred had been crowned and it was like they were entirely new people. Gilbert didn't know what to do, what to say. What if the Matthew he wanted to be with wasn't there anymore? That thought scared him more than anything else…
"Mind if we…uh…talk?" Matthew asked carefully.
"Go right ahead," Gilbert nodded numbly, motioning to the curb beside him. Matthew offered him a weak smile before sitting down beside him, though nowhere near close enough for them to touch.
Matthew opened his mouth to talk, but apparently thought better of it and closed it instead. He looked like he was desperately searching for something, anything to say. And Gilbert waited. They washed into a comfortable silence, sitting beside each other as the world continued to turn. Gilbert smiled. This was actually kind of nice. He glanced back at Matthew, who was biting his lip, looking at the ground, a cute little mannerism Gilbert always found that he liked. He was still searching for something to say.
Gilbert couldn't stop himself, he laughed. At first, it was a small chuckle, but soon it morphed into nearly barking laughter as he held onto his stomach. Matthew blinked at him in surprise, a small blush swimming across his face.
"What?" Matthew asked simply, his tone slipping into what he used to use when he was talking with Gilbert. It was like old times again.
"Nothing," Gilbert smirked, calming down his laughter just slightly. "I just…never thought I'd be this happy to be quiet."
Matthew punched him in his shoulder.
Oh, my God, this took forever! I can't even! Anyway, I would have actually ended it in the section above the last one, but a reviewer suggested that I add at least a tiny thing so everyone knows how PruCan ended up. So the ending bit morphed into a thing. Matthew finally worked up the courage to say something, except not really. And Gilbert managed to make it work, like he always does. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this backstory, Ludwig is still one of the hardest characters for me to write and it doesn't help he's like four years younger than Gilbert.
Anyway, next up is Elizabeta and Roderich, then Francis, then Arthur, and finally Ivan! So I'll see all of you next time!