Ludwig was a mess. August 19, 1944. They had been completely unprepared for the attack on North France by the allies, and on top of that, the damn Frenchman hadn't been responding to his frantic calls for reinforcements, and Ludwig was beyond frustrated. He slammed his head onto the desk, groaning as he surveyed the empty chairs at empty tables where his allies were supposed to sit. They were now near useless, with both Feliciano and Lovino in no fighting condition after Operation Torch, and Kiku busy fighting Alfred's troops in the Pacific. Ludwig had TOLD him that provoking Alfred was a bad idea, but did he listen? No. He had bombed Alfred, and now was paying dearly for it. His own brother had pulled him aside and told him that Prussia would not play a major role in this war. "Ludwig. Hör mir zu." (listen to me) his brother had told him, blood red eyes meeting light blue. "I do not vant to fight in zhis var." Gilbert said solemnly, mouth pressed into a thin line. His snow white hair was peeking out from underneath his cap, and he stood straight, the Prussian cross standing out against the dark blue of his uniform, one hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Ludwig stepped back, shock all over his features.
"Vhat?" He asked, not believing his ears.
"Jou heard me." Prussia repeated, not flinching as his brother towered over him. "I do not approve of zhis var."
"JOU COWARD!" Ludwig screamed, shoving the smaller man away. "JOU SHOULD SUPPORT ME UND NOT VANT TO BACK OUT! HOW DARE JOU SAY ZHAT!"
"HOW DARE I VATCH MEIN BRUDER BLINDLY FOLLOW VHAT HE KNOWS IZ VRONG!" Gilbert screamed back, face coloring the same as his eyes in rage. "Jou see vhat zhat monster of a man iz doing. Vhat he iz doing to innocent people. Jou see how people like me are treated. Jou see how ve have been dragged into anozer var. Ve cannot vin zhis, und ze might of ze Allies vill be horrid vhen zhey do."
"Ve can still vin zhis!" Ludwig protested, slamming a fist into the wall. "Zhe Third Reich vill last a thousand years!" Gilbert shook his head, face twisting at his brother's denial.
"Jou forget zhat jou are still young. History repeats itself, und I have seen zhis happen before. Zhis a var zhat ve cannot vin, nor do I believe zhat ve deserve to. I vill support jou because jou are mein bruder, but know zhat vhen karma comes to collect its debt, I varned jou." The older nation began to walk out of the room, leaving the dumbstruck younger to process this information. That had been about two weeks ago, and even though his support did not falter, Ludwig could feel disapproval radiating out of the red irises with every order Ludwig made.
"Herr Beilschmidt! Die Alliierten!" (Sir Beilschmidt! The Allies) a frantic soldier ran into the office of Francis's parisian mansion, snapping to attention when Ludwig turned his gaze onto him.
"Die Alliierten? Wo?"(Where) Ludwig barked, dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he sprung up, slamming his hands down onto the desk.
"Jawohl. Am rande von Paris."(Yes sir. On the outskirts of Paris) The soldier reported. Ludwig gave the order to drive to where the Allied army was, looking to see how they could attack. Their vehicle was intercepted halfway there and they were forced out by four men, all carrying guns and in helmets, talking in rapid-fire French.
"Vhat iz zhe meaning of zhis? France iz under our control! Vhere iz zhat lazy dummkopf?" Ludwig demanded as they were backed up to the side of the truck. The talking stopped and one of the men laughed, the sound familiar. They spread out, the one who laughed in front, while the others spread out behind him, guns still trained on Ludwig and his driver.
The man who laughed pushed up his helmet, revealing long blonde hair, blue eyes, and pure white teeth exposed in a smirk, standing out against mud and blood stained skin. "Bonjour Allemagne." Francis purred, letting his helmet drop to the ground as he pointed his rifle straight at Germany. The others also removed their helmets, revealing themselves to be England, America, and Canada.
"Jou traitor." Germany hissed at France, who blew him a kiss and giggled, walking closer and closer, his combat boots making tracks in the dust.
"Non. I was never on your side, et you were an idiot to zink I was." France spat, glaring at the Germanic nation. "Paris will be liberated." he waved a hand at the others, who led them away while America threw a grenade at the truck, causing it to explode behind them. "Last chance to surrender my 'eart." France warned, blue eyes icy and tone sharp. "If you do not, I will make ze ground run rouge with rivers of Axis blood." Germany shook his head, refusing to surrender. France's lips twisted in a cruel smirk, and he raised his gun again, pointing it straight at the other's heart. "Pity zat you can't die." he sneered, before giving the order to fire.
~Six days later, August 25~
"VIVE LA FRANCE!" Francis screamed from the top of the eiffel tower, clutching to the iron pole at the top, waving his flag in the air, watching as the streets of his heart erupted in cheers, the call echoing around as the streets swarmed with a sea of red, white, and blue. Calls of vive l'Amerique along with Canada and Angleterre were also heard, the citizens of France celebrating the end of Nazi reign over them. Francis looked at the sun setting over the skyline of his home, heart swelling with pride before jumping off the top, landing like a cat at the base, immediately buried by a bear hug by the ones he loved.
"Vive la France! Viva la France!" America and Canada both cheered, dancing around, waving little French flags in their hands. England released France and kissed him furiously, Francis dipping his lover low to the ground until Arthur's head nearly touched the concrete, the celebrations raging around them. France had been liberated from Nazi control.